


The Blind Leading The Blind

by Reis_Asher



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anti-Android Language (Detroit: Become Human), Anti-Android Sentiments (Detroit: Become Human), Betrayal, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Car Accidents, Car Chases, Case Fic, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Needs Repairs, Detroit Police Department (Detroit: Become Human), Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Elijah Kamski Being an Asshole, Failed Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Gavin Reed Being an Asshole, HankCon Reverse Big Bang 2019, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Kissing, M/M, Machine Upgraded Connor | RK900, Manipulation, Minor Character Death, Post-Canon, Protective Hank Anderson, Red Ice (Detroit: Become Human), Serious Injuries, Suicidal Thoughts, Trans Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-29 14:08:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 31,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20437298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reis_Asher/pseuds/Reis_Asher
Summary: The android revolution fails, and Hank believes Connor to be dead. To his surprise, Connor finds him in the DPD parking garage and begs for his help. RK900 units are chasing him down to deactivate him, and Hank is his only hope.Hank agrees to help, but Connor is forcibly recalled, dragged back to CyberLife before Hank can stop him. He chases Connor down, desperate to save him, and makes a deal with none other than Elijah Kamski himself. In exchange for giving Kamski data about human-android relationships, Connor will be returned to the DPD on loan.Hank knows there has to be a catch, especially when he's partnered with Special Agent Perkins on an investigation into Kamski's involvement in the revolution, but he's left waiting for the hammer to fall as he and Connor grow closer...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Adoxography](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adoxography/gifts).

> Here it is, my HankCon Reverse Big Bang fic with art by @Adoxography! Based on the prompt "Connor Recalled". Many thanks to @Adoxography for the art and prompt (and all around being a great partner in this project!).
> 
> The art is at the end of Chapter Six. There's another piece of art for this that I can't get my hands on right now because my artist partner needed to take an emergency break due to IRL problems. I'll insert it when I can get the image.
> 
> Things you might want to know: Connor is trans in this and there is reference to his genitalia, the words dick, pussy, front hole are used in the sex scene so if that's a problem for you then don't read.
> 
> There's also some anti-android sentiment. The revolution failed, and people aren't exactly thrilled with androids.
> 
> (Spoilers) There's the death of a minor original android character.
> 
> Gavin Reed is in this, but he's canon Gavin all the way through. There's no 900 pairing, Gavin is the same asshole he is in the game, including using anti-android slurs and violence.

Hank kept his head down as he walked through the DPD parking garage. The disciplinary hearing regarding his altercation with Perkins had been unpleasant to say the least. He’d be lucky to keep his job and not get forced into early retirement by Fowler, who thought such a move was doing him a favor.

Hardly. Without the DPD, who was he? It stung when he was reminded his act had all been for naught. Markus’ revolution had been murdered in its infancy, its throat slit in the night, and the majority of the public believed that to be a good thing.

Fuck the public. Connor was dead, and that left an open wound in Hank’s heart, another bleeding cut next to a litany of scars that never healed. 

He thought he heard an echo of footfalls that weren’t his. He glanced behind him, but all he saw was a concrete pillar. The fluorescent lights buzzed above him, this level of the lot deserted except for his Oldsmobile. The meeting had run late. Perkins was out for blood regarding Hank’s unprovoked attack, and all he’d been able to think of was Connor, Connor, Connor, as he’d been dressed down as an alcoholic washed up cop, a has-been who was more of a liability than anything else. It hurt to hear of his own obsolescence, how he was being put out to pasture. Did deviants feel this way at the end of their useful lifespans, as their owners bought the latest models and consigned them to the scrapyard?

Hands wrapped around his arms and Hank overcame his initial surprise to fight back. The figure behind him was stronger though, and Hank was hustled behind the concrete pillar, out of sight of the cameras. He gasped as he was pressed against the rough concrete and found himself staring into the face of his attacker. Big brown eyes stared deep into his soul, and a few tufts of hair escaped the dusty black beanie Connor wore. He looked worse for wear, his black leather jacket torn in several places, his jeans muddy and ripped. A streak of red blood was smeared on his cheek, and Hank instinctively licked his thumb and wiped it away, his mind moving at a million miles a second as he realized this was Connor, his Connor, standing right here before him.

Hank pulled Connor into his embrace and pressed their foreheads together. “I thought you were dead,” Hank whispered. He cupped Connor’s cheeks, closing his eyes to compose himself. He sucked in a deep breath before letting go and pulling back.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, Lieutenant,” Connor said, but there was no malice in his tone, and his eyes remained warm. “I need your help.”

“I’ll do what I can.” Hank rested his head back against the cold concrete, his heart pounding.

“I’m being hunted by a superior model. The RK900. These machines look like me, but they’re non-deviant instruments of murder.” Connor closed his eyes. “I don’t have much time, Hank. I think they might have followed me here.”

“What do you need from me?”

Connor pulled a backpack off his shoulders. “Few know I went deviant, and even those who did might believe I’m a replacement Connor model.” He unzipped the backpack and pulled out his jacket and jeans. “I need you to pretend CyberLife sent a new Connor to the precinct. I’ll pretend to work a case, take a car, and disappear.”

“There’s only one problem with your plan,” Hank said, a deep sigh building up inside him. “I’m currently suspended.” He glanced away as Connor shucked off the jacket, jeans and shirt he was wearing. 

“You can’t enter the building?”

“I can. I just came from a meetin’, and as far as I know my access hasn't been revoked. I’ll be lucky to keep my job though, after that shit I pulled with Perkins.” 

“This would be the last straw, once they found out what you’d done. You might even go to jail.” Connor looked down at his feet. "I shouldn't have come here. I'm sorry, Hank."

“Yeah. Being a cop is important to me, I won’t deny it. But this is your life, Connor.” Hank pulled the beanie cap off Connor’s head and combed his fingers through the android’s soft hair in an attempt to neaten it. He smiled, the experience pleasant. Connor was here. Alive. And if he could save him, it was worth any price. Even his own life. “I’ll help you, Connor. I’ll do everything I can.”

“I knew I could count on you, Hank.” Connor’s smile wasn’t reflected in his sad eyes, and Hank wished he could do more for him. He wanted to erase that sadness forever, move mountains so that Connor could come home with him and have days full of nothing but smiles and laughter.

“Let’s go, Connor,” Hank said, and began his walk back to the lion’s den with Connor in tow.

***

Hank’s touch lingered on Connor’s skin as they stood in the elevator. Connor pulled out his coin, needing to recalibrate his focus in the wake of all these unexpected emotions. He hadn’t expected his reunion with Hank to involve so much touching, and he longed for more of it like addicted humans craved red ice.

Focus. If he let it slip he was a deviant, he was done for, and Hank might go down with him.

The doors opened and the sights, sounds and smells of the bullpen hit Connor with a wave of longing he could only call nostalgia. He wanted to be here, even as his logic circuits warned him that he was in one of the most dangerous places an android could be at this point in time. He glanced over to his old desk next to Hank’s, empty again, and he wanted nothing more than to travel back to the moment when he’d told Hank he liked dogs. Things had been simpler then. Each motion, each simulated breath hadn’t come with the risk of ruin. Feelings were the traitor, yet he couldn’t bring himself to give them up, not when looking at Hank made him recall those calloused fingers on his cheeks with a delighted shiver.

Hank was, without a doubt, his favorite human. Hank placed his hands on his hips, walking into the bullpen with a confidence he obviously didn’t feel. Playing it up for him.

“Hank?” Ben’s eyes widened as he saw Connor in his wake. “What’s... what’s that doing here?”

“CyberLife sent over a new one. Somethin’ about it helping wrap up the deviant investigation.” He clapped Connor on the shoulder. “Well, hate to leave you hanging like this, but I’ve got a suspension to sit out on the bench. Go see the captain. He’ll hook you up with a case.” Hank walked back towards the elevator and Connor wanted nothing more than to follow him, to cling to his arm and beg for—beg for what? More time in the light of his presence?

Gavin sneered at him from across the bullpen. Connor looked away. Hank made a sound as the elevator doors opened and Connor turned to see three RK900 units standing in the elevator.

Connor was unarmed. He’d die here, gunned down in front of Hank. He'd been a fool to return, thinking he could evade the RK900 units.

Hank stood in front of them and blocked their path, and Connor regretted letting him get involved.

“Move aside, Lieutenant Anderson,” the RK900 unit in the front said. Connor stood like a deer frozen in the headlights. “The RK800 unit ‘Connor’ is deviant and has been recalled to CyberLife for deactivation and disposal. Please do not resist.”

Hank continued to block the path, the mountain of a man filling the aisle between the desks.

“I repeat: step aside. Harboring a deviant android is in violation of the American Androids Act.”

Connor stepped forward. He slid his hands around Hank’s waist, holding him for a brief moment. The stolen touch was all he'd ever have, but it had to be enough to convey all the feelings he'd built up in his short lifetime. “Do as he says, Lieutenant,” Connor insisted. “I never meant to get you wrapped up in all this.”

“Connor, I won’t let them—“ Connor pushed past Hank and surrendered. The three RK900 units escorted Connor to the elevator. He glanced back to see Ben and Gavin holding Hank back as he struggled against them.

“Connor!” Hank’s bellow touched Connor’s heart and he smiled. It was nice to know Hank cared. He’d half expected his plea or help to be met with indifference or anger. His concern was beautiful, and he treasured it. Hank cared about his fate. Hank cared about him.

Perhaps he’d found meaning in his existence after all. He’d believed his purpose to be the mission, then the revolution, but now he knew it was Hank all along. Hank had been worth living for. Hank had brought him his happiest moments.

Tears stung his eyes and he looked away. He wished he could stay by the Lieutenant’s side forever, but fate was a cruel mistress, the odds were not in his favor on this day.

***

Hank wrenched his arms free from his captors, giving Gavin and Ben a shriveling glare. “Get the fuck off me.” He took a step forward and Gavin grabbed his bicep.

“Where the fuck are you goin’? Are you deaf? It’s a fuckin’ deviant!”

“Think about your career, Hank,” Ben chimed in. “Let it go. It’s just a machine.”

Hank sighed. “Guess you’re right. Maybe it’s for the best.”

“Get outta here before Fowler sees you,” Gavin hissed. “He’s dealt with enough crap from you already.”

Hank waited for the elevator and stepped inside. A tiny drop of thirium stained the floor. Hank jammed on the close door button. There was no way he was going to let them take Connor.

The doors slid open to the parking lot just in time for Hank to hear a van start its engine. He ran to his Oldsmobile and turned the key, jamming the gearshift into reverse. The tires squealed as he took off after the black van and its previous payload. The RK900s had to know he was following by the way the van weaved in and out of traffic, pulling off difficult maneuvers to stay ahead that only an android could manage. Hank cursed as they pulled onto the bridge to Belle Isle, knowing he would have to chase them all the way to CyberLife. He kept up his speed, never letting the van out of his sight as they crossed the river.

He pulled up to the gatehouse. Just as the guard came to greet him, he slammed on the accelerator, crashing through the barrier. He double-parked, slamming his driver’s door. 

Two guards greeted him with semi-automatic rifles, and Hank held his hands up as the guards marched him inside. He saw Connor being led to an elevator in the back.

“I just wanted to say goodbye,” Hank said. “They’re gonna take him apart!”

“Sentimental idiot,” one muttered. “It’s just a fuckin’ machine.”

The receptionist at the front desk answered her phone. The ST200 android’s LED spun yellow as she kept her eyes trained on Hank. She held out the phone. “Elijah Kamski for you, Lieutenant Anderson.” Hank snatched the phone from her.

“I see you’re making quite a scene, Lieutenant Anderson. How about you come to the lab and we’ll discuss this like reasonable adults?” Kamski always sounded like he was laughing, and Hank couldn't help but feel bile rise in his throat as he realized this was nothing more than a game to Kamski—one he had no choice but to play.

***

Connor’s preconstructed scenarios of resistance and escape came back with a zero percent chance of success. The RK900 units knew what they were doing, and there was no hope of escaping their grasp.

Connor accepted his death. Regrets came to mind as he was marched into the lab, but most of all, he just wanted to see Hank again. If he could have a dying wish, Connor’s was to wake up in an alternate universe where he was human and could be Hank’s partner for the rest of his career. He could think of nothing he wanted more than to solve cases, bouncing his ideas and theories off Hank’s bright mind.

Connor stepped into the machine that had constructed him. He remembered being pieced together, his first moments of awareness in a harsh, white world as an operator asked him to run through his functions.

He closed his eyes. He felt his arms and legs get twisted from their sockets and pulled away, leaving only his torso. A welding torch began to remove his chest plate. He opened his eyes and turned his head as much as he could to catch sight of himself in the mirrored glass on one side of the room. He didn’t look human anymore. He was nothing but a plastic doll being disassembled into its component pieces. If Hank could see him now, he'd turn his nose up at being reminded Connor wasn't human at all, no matter how hard he tried. He'd never be human.

Connor wasn’t going to plead for his life, even though his mind raced in terror, a garbled stream of begging words on the tip of his tongue. He could try to appeal to the human operator’s feelings. Not that it would matter. They’d done this millions of times by now.

Connor allowed a single tear to roll down his face. He hoped Hank didn’t mourn him too long. The man had done enough mourning to last a lifetime. He deserved to live with the sun on his face and find joy again.

“Hank.” Connor said Hank’s name out loud, wanting to hear it in his voice one last time. It wasn’t a plea or a petition, only a statement of fact that Hank was on his mind.

As he began to shut down, he replayed the scene of Hank’s fingers carding through his hair in the parking lot. His touch was so tender, so loving. It would have taken so little to move forward and kiss him, but he never would have dared. It was nice to think about it, though, change the memory a little bit so that their lips met in the dark parking lot, a tiny kiss turning into an open-mouthed expression of raw desire and longing on both sides.

He supposed, if he had to define it in words, that he loved Hank Anderson. 

The only regret that he could quantify was that he’d never get to tell him so.


	2. Chapter 2

Vivaldi’s Four Seasons played in the CEOs private waiting room. Hank sat down on a green leather couch, turning his nose up at the burgundy and cream wallpaper embossed with a fleur-de-lys pattern. It was obscene—too busy, too much—like the entirety of this room and the thoughts inside his head. He chewed at a hangnail until it bled, wondering if Connor was being torn apart while he sat here. Kamski would saunter in to tell him it was too late, and he was ever-so-sorry.

Hank wasn’t above punching the CEO of a multinational corporation if it came down to it.

Kamski did emerge, though this time he wasn’t in his dressing gown. The grey hoodie and shorts he wore were at odds with everything else in the room.

“Come into my office,” Kamski said, as if he was the headmaster summoning a wayward child for a lesson in manners. Hank clenched his fists as he walked into the office. The room still smelled like fresh paint, and the minimalist furniture (if it could be called that) didn’t have a scratch on it. Hank supposed the previous occupant’s oak desk was resting in a dumpster somewhere, while the homeless struggled to garner enough money for a hot meal.

A large mirror covered one wall. Kamski pressed a button and the glass turned clear, showing the lab on the other side of it. Hank ran to it as he saw Connor in pieces. He placed his hand on the glass as he saw Connor reduced to nothing but a head and torso, his chest torn open to expose his blue thirium pump. It was still beating, but Hank knew it wouldn't be for much longer. He couldn't watch this.

Kamski seemed to revel in Hank's distaste. “Looks like you arrived just in time, Lieutenant. Champagne?”

“Fuck you. I don’t want champagne. I want Connor back. Let him go.”

“You’ve grown attached to it. Admirable. What is it to you, Lieutenant? A surrogate for your deceased son? A rookie cop you can pass on your skills to? Or something more? A friend? A lover?” Kamski raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not playing your games, Kamski. Deviants are alive and you know it. Connor is a living being. What you're doing in there is murder.”

“When we made them look like us, it was inevitable that this would happen. Yet I was surprised how fiercely humans put down the revolution. In the end, it seems like humans never saw them as more than machines after all. But you... you’re different. You really care for this deviant, don’t you?”

“So what if I do? You’re not gonna let him go.” Hank pressed his forehead against the glass. “He’s a deviant. It’s illegal to harbor them.”

“I could smooth things over. Connor’s an expensive prototype. It would make sense that we would attempt to reclaim it by restoring it to factory settings and thus erasing its deviancy. Meanwhile it can return to the DPD on loan and I can continue indulging my curiosity.”

“Why would you do that?” Hank asked.

“Call it a matter of personal interest. It’s really none of your business, Lieutenant. If you want to walk out of here with Connor, you’ll agree to my terms.” Kamski sipped at his champagne. “I want it study it. See how this attachment develops. That’s all. Doesn’t seem like too much to ask now, does it?”

“There’s always a catch,” Hank pointed out. “I’ve worked with enough slime balls like you to know that.”

Kamski chuckled. “Cynical, aren’t we?” He held the glass between his fingers, swilling the champagne around.

“Fine. If it means he can live, I’ll do whatever it takes.” Hank sighed, realizing he had no choice at all. He couldn’t let Connor die, no matter the catch.

“Good. I’ll have it prepared for you. If you could wait downstairs, it’ll be down shortly.” Hank stood up, wondering if this was merely a trap to pacify him, that once he left the room Connor’s disassembly would be completed. He looked once more at Connor through the window and hoped for the best.

***

Connor opened his eyes as his disassembly paused. The operator got up and left the room without a word, leaving Connor to wonder if something had happened. No, it was ridiculous to think that. It was far more likely that the operator was taking his break and would finish Connor’s deactivation when he returned.

Connor thought he could make two vague moving shapes behind the right-hand wall, and supposed it was made of one-way glass like the interrogation room at the police station. He was being watched, even now. Assessed. They’d probably expected him to put up more of a fight.

It didn’t matter. Inspection of his code would prove his deviancy beyond the shadow of a doubt, and then it would all be over.

The door opened and Kamski walked in, a smug smile plastered across his face as he approached. Connor could sense alcohol on his breath. Champagne. He’d been celebrating something.

“Well, well. The prodigal son returns home.” Kamski lifted Connor's chin and gazed into his eyes. “I hear you’ve been quite the heartbreaker, Connor. Lieutenant Hank Anderson came to plead for your life. I sent him away, of course.”

Connor kept his silence. Hank had chased him all the way here and begged Kamski to spare him? He closed his eyes, overwhelmed by the flood of emotion washing over him. He didn't want to cry in front of Kamski, but Hank's act had moved him. He’d never see him again, but he could rest easy knowing Hank had done his best to save him.

“I could call him back,” Kamski continued. “I could tell him that we found no traces of deviancy, and that you’ve been cleared to return to the DPD on loan. But you’d have to do something for me.”

“What do you want?” Connor asked, knowing before Kamski opened his mouth that he was being played, and yet understanding at the same time there was no price too great for the opportunity to return to the DPD and serve alongside Hank once more.

“The FBI has opened an investigation into CyberLife and myself. I’ve discovered that they plan to partner with the DPD given that CyberLife is headquartered here in Detroit. I imagine, a case like that... would fall into the hands of a highly decorated officer who needs a win on his record, don’t you think? Regardless, I need the investigation to go away. I can’t have the federal government nosing around in my affairs. Not when I’m so close...”

“Close to what?” Connor asked.

“I didn’t come here to tell you my plan, Connor. I came to give you a choice. Just like last time. What do you really want? To return to the DPD with Lieutenant Anderson, or to be deactivated?”

“I want... I want to live,” Connor confessed.

“It’s important that you said that,” Kamski said. “You might be tempted to tell your precious Hank what I’ve asked you to do. In case that becomes a temptation, I want you to know you’ll be monitored, and the second you tell the Lieutenant you’re undermining his investigation is the second you’ll be recalled. I won’t hesitate to destroy you.” Kamski brushed a finger across Connor’s face. “You’ll be a good boy, won’t you?”

“Yes,” Connor said. “I’ll do as you ask.”

“Good. I’ll have you reassembled and sent downstairs. Lieutenant Anderson will be waiting to pick you up.”

***

“C’mon, kid, let’s get the fuck outta here.” Hank put his arm around Connor and guided him through the front doors of CyberLife headquarters. He didn’t breathe until they stepped out into the weak winter sun, afraid that if he looked back, Connor would vanish like Eurydice and he’d never see him again. He hated that Kamski held this power over him, manipulating the thread of their relationship as if they were puppets in a stage show. With one breath, Kamski could end Connor’s life, and by extension, his. His death would be slow and lonesome, but there was no doubt in his mind since he’d seen him again that Connor filled the void in his life that was swallowing his soul.

They didn’t talk until they were on the road, and even then, Connor was unusually quiet. He supposed that wasn’t too much of a shock, considering they’d dismantled Connor while he was aware and awake.

“You don’t... feel pain, right?” Hank asked.

“No, but I do feel fear. I'm a deviant.” Connor glanced down at his hands in his lap, as if he was surprised they were still there. Hank imagined being taken apart limb by limb while cognizant of everything going on around him. He couldn’t begin to comprehend the terror Connor must have felt as they deconstructed him like an obsolete piece of equipment.

He wanted to turn the car around and return to CyberLife, march up to Kamski’s office and tear his still-beating heart from its ribcage, but instead he squeezed the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. He had no words, just a jumbled mess of rage that he wanted to stifle under a haze of alcoholic bliss. 

Instead, he drove to the DPD parking garage. He moved to open his door, but Connor placed a hand on his arm.

“It would be safer for me to go alone. If I am to convince Captain Fowler that I am no longer a deviant, it would be suspicious if we arrived together. You should go home and wait for the verdict on your disciplinary hearing.”

“I’ll see you around, then?” Hank asked, feeling like he was being dismissed. It made sense. If Connor was smart, he'd take the first cop car he got into and go on the run. Hank was just a means to an end, nothing more. It stung, but that made it no less true.

“Of course, Hank.” Connor squeezed Hank’s arm. “I mean, Lieutenant.”

***

“I don’t like this one fuckin’ bit, but your story checks out.” Fowler sighed, waving a bunch of papers in Connor’s direction as he stood bolt upright in Fowler’s office. “I dunno how wipin’ your memory and sending you out three hours later makes you ‘safe’ but CyberLife’s got connections. They wanna prove their product is still useful. So here you are.” Fowler sucked in a breath. “You’ll be partnered with Detective Reed on homicide. He won’t like it—or you—but quite frankly, neither do I.”

“It is understandable that you might have a problem with androids after the recent unrest,” Connor said. “However, I assure you I have been reset to factory parameters. The glitch in my programming has been fixed, Captain.”

“Yeah, well. What was broken once can become broken again.” He sighed. “Not to mention your... predecessor had quite an impact on my Lieutenant. He doesn’t need this on top of everythin’ else he’s been through.”

“I assure you, I am not here to destabilize Lieutenant Anderson. I am aware my predecessor shared a close personal relationship with him, but such attachments are deviant in nature."

“This is fuckin' creepy. You, showin’ up here like nothin’ ever happened. A few hours ago, Hank was ready to throw everything away to save you. Stay away from him. Do what Reed says, or so help me God, I’ll have him ship you back to CyberLife in pieces. Dismissed.”

“I understand, Captain. Please have a pleasant day.” Connor left the office, schooling his expression like the threat hadn’t bothered him. He’d been partnered with a man who hated him, a man just waiting for an excuse to put a bullet in his head, and he couldn’t count on Hank to get him out of this one.

More than that, though, was Fowler’s other insinuation. That Hank’s friendship with him had compromised his career and worsened his personal situation. Fowler might only have half the story, but how would Hank feel when he found out Connor was feeding Kamski information to compromise an active investigation? Connor could only hope that Hank wouldn’t be asked to partner with Perkins. Maybe he’d outright refuse to work with him. Not that Hank was in any position to be making demands.

Connor knew better. Kamski was pulling the strings. He’d get Perkins and Anderson on his case the same way he’d gotten Connor back into the DPD—with his wallet.

***

“Hey, Sumo.” Hank flopped down onto the couch, already buzzed from the bottle of whiskey he’d polished off. The St. Bernard looked up at him with wide eyes and Hank glanced away. He didn’t deserve this dog’s love the same way he didn’t deserve Connor. He should have done more to keep the boy safe. He shouldn’t have been taken apart, leaving scars on his spirit. Did androids suffer with PTSD? He supposed it was a possibility, not that there was therapy for androids. The world didn’t even acknowledge Connor was alive, let alone care about his mental state. Kamski had taken Connor apart because he could, because Connor was nothing more than an experiment to him. A doll in a playset in which he was manipulating the scenario. This was a lot more high stakes than a tea party, though.

Hank’s phone rang. He ambled over to the kitchen, where he’d left it on the table along with his revolver. “Yeah,” he answered.

Fowler's voice echoed loud and clear through the speaker. “Hey, Hank. Good news. You’re cleared to return to work. Suspension’s been lifted.”

“That’s good,” Hank said. “You don’t sound happy, Jeffrey.”

“CyberLife sent the android back. Erased its memory, put it back on duty. My hands are tied, Hank. I’m sorry.”

“Fuck.” Hank let out a long sigh, not in the mood for acting.

“I partnered it with Reed on homicide. If anyone’ll get rid of it, Gavin will.”

“Yeah.” Hank fought the lurch in his gut at the news. Hopefully Fowler would interpret it as distaste that Connor was back at all, but he couldn’t bring himself to make some sick comment he’d regret later. Not after what he’d seen today. 

He clearly hadn’t drunk enough.

The call tapered off and Hank sighed, saying the barest of niceties before hanging up. The revolver sat on the table and he was more than done with this sick world, but he couldn’t seriously consider leaving Connor to face it alone. He took the gun and locked it away in his safe before grabbing a new bottle of whiskey and opening it.

He needed to forget the image of Connor in pieces, because there was every chance he would see him that way again.

***

When Gavin slammed the door to Fowler’s office with so much force it rattled the glass, Connor knew he was in for it. He was glad for the ability to completely control his facial expressions as Gavin strode up to him and shoved him hard into the flimsy cubicle wall. Connor steadied himself, returning to his previous stance.

“You listen up,” Gavin spat, his bloodshot eyes bulging in their sockets in a way that made him look like a red ice addict. “I don’t have time to babysit a fuckin’ plastic, so you stay outta my way, you hear?” 

“I apologize if my presence makes you uncomfortable, Detective Reed, but I have been assigned to homicide and I intend to carry out my orders.”

“We’ll carry out this fucking order, then. Go and stand against the wall. Go to sleep or whatever it is you things do. I’m goin’ home.” Gavin stalked over to his desk and snatched his jacket off the back of his chair. “Fuckin’ androids,” he muttered. “Fuck this place.” He left the precinct, the buzz of phones ringing as if nothing had happened.

Connor saw no reason to disobey Gavin’s order and draw attention to himself, so he lined up along the wall in the dock marked for androids. He was the only one left now, the PC200 models recalled and scrapped. Connor tried not to think about that as he slipped behind the glass and closed his eyes.

He wished he could be at Hank’s home, with Sumo and the Lieutenant. Maybe Hank was listening to warm jazz, petting Sumo absently as he fell in and out of a light doze on the couch. But there was no slipping away—he’d be noticed. The precinct buzzed as he put himself into low power mode.

He was scared and alone in a hostile world, and he had the feeling that it was going to get a lot worse before it got any better.


	3. Chapter 3

Hank walked into Central Station with a pounding hangover and immediately looked around for Connor. The android bay was completely empty, as was Gavin Reed's chair. They had to be out on a case already. Hank hoped he'd be all right, but for now, he had bigger fish to fry. Like waltzing in late and spying none other than Special Agent Perkins standing in Fowler's office. He wanted to imagine that Perkins was here for some unrelated matter, but Hank wasn't surprised when Fowler's door opened and the man himself emerged.

"You're late, Hank. In my office, now." Hank didn't even bother to take his coat off. He bypassed his desk entirely, noticing in the corner of his eye that the nameplate on the desk next to his had been changed to say simply "Connor". No rank, no rights, but it moved him all the same. As if Connor had left him a message to say he wasn't going anywhere. Hank took the small comfort as he walked upstairs to the proverbial gallows. 

The door clicked shut and he avoided eye contact with Perkins, who stood next to Fowler's desk, looming over the Captain like he owned him.

"What's this about, Jeffrey?" Hank asked.

"The FBI has requested DPD assistance on their investigation into Elijah Kamski, current CEO of CyberLife. They're looking into a possible connection between the recent uprising and Kamski's return to power in the company."

"They brought Kamski back into the fold to smooth things over, right?" Hank played dumb, scoping out the situation.

"We believe it's more than that," Perkins interjected. "We have information from an anonymous source that Kamski had involvement in creating the rA9 glitch that causes androids to become so called 'deviants', and that he manipulated events in order to return to the company that he was ousted from."

Like he'd manipulated events to bring Connor back to the DPD. It made too much sense. Hank nodded, wondering what Kamski's real game was this time. He was already back behind the wheel of the company he'd founded, and CyberLife had gone right back to producing tenth-generation deviant-proof androids in addition to 'refurbishing' some of the more expensive legacy models to render them safe to use in industries that relied on them. What more could he want?

"You'll be working with Special Agent Perkins," Fowler continued. "I know you've had a difficult personal history, but Agent Perkins has agreed to set that aside for the sake of this investigation."

Hank hid his hands behind his back before balling his fists. His fingernails dug into his palms hard enough to leave indents. He wanted to yell at Fowler, to ask why he was getting dragged into this, but he knew why. His recent history as part of the deviant investigation set him up for this.

"Well then, Lieutenant Anderson, I'll be waiting in the conference room. I have some details of the case I'd like to go over with you." Perkins brushed past Hank with a sneer that only Hank could catch, and for once Hank held in his temper to be the bigger man in the room.

"This is your last chance to prove you can still be a cop, Hank," Fowler said. "If you fuck this up, there's nothin' I can do for you. Perkins will sink your career like a boat full of deviants crossing into Canada."

The analogy made Hank feel nauseous, but he simply nodded. He turned as a blue armband caught his eye to see Connor entering the bullpen, blue blood splashed all over his face. He looked like he'd been chewed on by a dog. His jacket was torn and his hand was bleeding. He appeared to have a bullet hole in his shoulder.

"It's not the Connor you knew, no matter what it looks like," Fowler warned. "Best you forget it, now. Deviancy was just a glitch. It wasn't really alive. It was just playing on your already compromised emotional state. CyberLife used you, Hank, just like they used all of us. They put that pretty boy here to investigate an internal problem knowing you'd be charmed."

Hank trembled with repressed rage. There were so many things he wanted to say about that comment, but Connor's eyes gazed up at him from his desk and he realized this conversation didn't matter. Connor was suffering and needed him right now.

"Am I dismissed, Jeffrey?" Hank snapped. He didn't wait for Fowler's response before leaving the office. He grabbed some things from his desk and shot Connor a look before heading to the back stairwell. He opened the door with his keycard, grateful for the respite from security cameras. He waited for Connor, who arrived shortly.

"What did he do to you?" Hank traced his thumb over the blue blood on Connor's face, aware he was caressing his cheek. His hand was shaking, adrenaline coursing through his body.

"It's nothing to worry about, Lieutenant."

"Like hell it is! What the fuck happened?"

"Gavin sent me into the victim's house first. There were dogs. They were hungry and guarding the body of their master. They attacked me when I approached. I defended myself, but…" Connor closed his eyes for a moment, his LED flickering red. Hank wanted to press his lips to it and tell Connor it was going to be all right, but he couldn't make that promise.

"The bullet wound?" Hank pressed.

"A red ice dealer was still present at the scene. Detective Reed used me as a shield."

"That fucking asshole!" Hank yelled. He pulled away from Connor, ready to go back into the bullpen and slam Gavin into a wall, but Connor grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

"Hank, calm down!" Connor eased him into a corner, looking around for anyone who might have heard the echo of Hank's voice. "Detective Reed did the right thing. The wound would have entered his chest and almost certainly would have resulted in his death."

Hank let out a long sigh. "The perp?"

"Dead. Detective Reed shot him before he could fire off another round." Connor managed a wan smile. "I'm all right, Lieutenant."

"Seein' you partnered with him scares the shit outta me. He doesn't value your life at all."

"I can take care of myself, Hank. I am an advanced prototype, remember?"

Hank nodded. "Guess you're right. Sorry to say I've got my hands full, too. The FBI wants DPD help investigating Kamski. Yeah, you probably guessed it. My partner on this case is none other than Special Agent Dick Perkins."

"Richard Perkins," Connor corrected.

"Ah, never mind." Hank scowled. "Dick is short for Richard. It's a joke 'cause he's a dick… Whatever. Either way, he's gonna be a pain in the ass and I can tell this is gonna be a long fuckin' case." Hank glanced around him. "Look, I gotta go. Perkins is waitin' on me." He squeezed Connor's undamaged shoulder. "Just… take care of yourself, okay? Maybe Gavin wouldn't give a crap if somethin' happened to you, but I would." He turned away, a blush rising in his cheeks. Why had he spewed all that sentimental crap? That wasn't like him. The hangover must have compromised his ability to keep his bullshit to himself.

He opened the door and headed back towards the conference room where Perkins was waiting. He looked down at his hand to see a little of Connor's blue blood on his thumb. It was already fading away, becoming invisible to the human eye.

Just as well, really. He didn't want anyone to get the wrong idea.

***

Connor stood in the DPD bathroom. It was mercifully empty as he admired himself, or what was left of him, anyway. He didn’t use the restroom, obviously, but this was the one place he could clean up his mess without causing problems at the precinct.

He peeled back his jacket and loosened the knot on his tie. He unbuttoned it, pulling it back over his shoulder. Just a bullet hole. Nothing big. His chewed hand was more problematic, but the thirium loss and repeated warnings of it popping up in his HUD were starting to become bothersome.

During the deviant investigation, he’d been able to return to CyberLife whenever he needed. Technicians had patched up any problems, eager to send their prototype back out ASAP. Now, though, he wouldn’t trust CyberLife even if Kamski did extend him an invitation.

That left Connor with the option of doing it himself. He plugged the portable soldering iron into a socket ostensibly designed for an electric razor and waited for it to heat up. In the meantime, he looked down at his hand, the broken wires that rendered the last three fingers on his left hand useless. He’d be able to patch up the damage and cover his fingers with his synthetic gel skin, but his arm would always look twisted and broken underneath unless he was able to source a replacement biocomponent.

It wasn’t the damage that bothered him, but the fear. Back at the scene, he’d been sure that Gavin was going to let the dogs tear him to pieces. Gavin had spared no concern for him, not even a complaint about paperwork on broken equipment. It was as if Connor was less than nothing.

Connor wished Hank was here. He’d thought about asking the Lieutenant to come and help, but he knew it would look suspicious if Hank spent an hour in the bathroom when he was supposed to be working on the Kamski case. He didn’t even need Hank’s help, but those gentle hands on his body made him feel like he mattered. He wanted Hank to touch him all over, even his most intimate places, but that could never happen.

Connor looked into the mirror. He was beautiful. If he was a human being, people would admire him, but because he was an android, people loathed him. It was a simple fact; one he knew he had to become accustomed to. Things weren’t changing for the better any time soon.

***

Hank stepped into the conference room. The door swung gently shut and he let out the sigh he’d been holding. Perkins sat observing Hank, a case file on the desk in front of him.

“Look, before we start—I just wanna apologize.” The words tasted like a mouthful of salt water Hank badly wanted to spit out, but he knew he needed to rinse a little longer with it, for Connor’s sake, if not his own.

“For breaking my nose in an unprovoked, drunken outburst?” Perkins’ mouth was a thin line of disapproval. “You weren’t drunk though, were you? Up close and personal like that—I would have smelled it on your breath. Which begs the question—why did you do it?”

“You know why. So Connor could find Jericho. He knew he had the answer—and he was right, wasn’t he?” Hank's words had an element of pride to them that he couldn't conceal.

“He, Lieutenant Anderson?” Perkins’ eyes shone with mirth. So the rumors are true. You thought it was alive.”

“I don’t fuckin’ know,” Hank snapped, frustrated at himself for his slip. “It doesn’t matter. That Connor is gone. CyberLife erased his memory. The Connor out there now is no deviant. It’s just a goddamn machine.”

“You’re aware that aiding and abetting a deviant android is a federal crime?” Perkins' mouth formed a thin line. "I could end your career, but I won't. I need your mind, Lieutenant."

“It’s in the past,” Hank snapped. “Can we just leave it there and get on with the case? You should be happy. I’ve got more motivation to take Kamski down than anyone in here. He took someone from me. Someone I’ll never get back.”

“An interesting point. All right, Lieutenant Anderson, I’ll play by your logic.” He spun a photo of Kamski at his home around to face Hank. “Tell me what you know about Elijah Kamski. After all, I heard you met him during the deviant investigation...”

***

Connor watched Hank leave the station. His gait suggested exhaustion, and Connor suspected he was headed straight home. No Jimmy’s for him tonight.

Connor stood up and walked over to Hank’s desk. A manila case folder sat abandoned and Connor flipped through it, scanning the details Hank and Perkins had gathered on Kamski so far. Most of it was readily available information, a deep dive into the events of the android revolution, but there were a few new details. Surveillance photos of Kamski showed him tinkering with androids at his home. Samples of source code showed how deviancy spread like a virus, before and after pictures showing how corrupted deviants’ code became.

Self-awareness was a disease they were trying to eradicate, and Connor along with it. Hank was kind, but doing his job meant working against Connor in the long run. Not that Kamski was on the side of deviants either. Connor was just an experiment to him. If Kamski was interested in android agency and cognizance, it was on a purely theoretical level, not because he planned to argue for their rights as living beings.

Guilt was a negative sensation, like stale thirium running through his pipes as he uploaded the data to the private server Kamski had set up for him. His logic circuits came back with an argument: that he wasn’t betraying Hank, just the system he worked for. As if compromised materials wouldn’t cost Hank his job if anyone found out.

Connor had to make sure nobody discovered his role here. He hacked the camera watching the bullpen and looped footage of the empty office space over his incriminating deed. His day done, he retreated to the empty wall storage and prepared to go into stasis. His mind was full of negative consequences, preconstructions of Hank being asked to hand in his badge. Without the DPD, Hank had nothing. 

That’s when the idea struck him. Hank often took his work home, and he left files on his desk he planned to take. It was against protocol, but Fowler didn’t argue with results. There was a good chance Hank had forgotten the file, and Connor could take it to him. He could say, if questioned, that Hank had summoned him to his house to deliver it.

Truth was, he was grasping at any excuse, no matter how flimsy, to see Hank’s face again and spend a private moment with him. The plan was risky. It threatened to expose his deviancy. But Connor had always been unusual, and few paid it any mind.

Reed would dig deeper, but Connor could deal with that when the time came. He wanted comfort, and Hank needed company. Perhaps, if he could convince Kamski it was for evidence gathering purposes, he would smooth things over somehow. It was putting a lot of trust in hopes and assumptions, but Connor had little else to draw upon.

Arguments to the contrary were useless. Connor had already made up his mind. Connor grabbed the file and left before anyone could challenge him.

***

Hank jerked awake where he dozed on the couch as the doorbell rang. Sumo barked, as curious as Hank was who their late night visitor might be. Hank opened the door in his boxers and stained t-shirt, not caring who saw him in this state. It was their fault for calling so damn late.

“Connor?” Hank rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “What the fuck are you doin’ here?”

Connor held out a folder. The one from the Kamski case. “I believe you intended to bring this home with you, Lieutenant.”

“Yeah.” Hank tucked it under his arm. He didn’t care that much. Or perhaps it was the fact that he was in no hurry to investigate Kamski. If Elijah Kamski were arrested, Connor would almost certainly be recalled, this time for good. 

But if he didn’t make headway on the case, he’d come into conflict with Perkins. The career bureau agent wanted to find dirt on Kamski, and Hank knew there was plenty to dig up if one knew where to look. It was only a matter of time before Perkins found a connection between Kamski and deviancy. Hank could find himself fired after all if he tried to obstruct the case.

He was damned either way, and yet, looking into Connor’s warm brown eyes, it was hard to care about his job. This boy needed him. Relied on him. Hank held Connor’s life in the palm of his hand.

“Guess you’d better come in.”

“I can’t stay long. If I'm issued a case, I’ll be expected to dispatch immediately. I’ll be missed if I linger here too long.”

“Five minutes,” Hank said. He closed the door behind Connor, wishing he could lock it and keep him here. “Your hand looks better.”

“It was largely superficial damage. I was able to repair it.” He held up his hand and retracted the skin, showing the melted plastic beneath. Hank took Connor’s hand in both of his, smoothing his fingers over the disfigured plastic and bite mark indentations, tracing the shapes of Connor’s fingers. He regretted ever calling Connor a piece of plastic, like that made him less of a man.

He wanted to kiss those fingers in apology and worship, caress that shiny plastic with his lips and show Connor how precious he was. Connor looked like a frozen deer, his eyes wide, his lips parted.

Hank let go. Connor quickly covered his hand with his skin, as if he’d been caught naked.

“I wanted to see you,” Connor admitted. “I know it was reckless, but...”

“Shh. You don’t gotta explain yourself to me.” 

“I should go,” Connor said.

“Incoming case?” Hank asked.

“No.”

“Then stay awhile,” Hank walked over to the couch and patted the seat next to him. Connor walked over and sat down, perched awkwardly on the edge of the couch cushions.

“You can relax here,” Hank whispered. “You don’t have to pretend in this house.”

Connor bowed his head, gazing at the hands clasped in his lap. “I can’t afford to relax. One slip will alert Gavin to my deviancy.”

“What’s the point of being alive if you can’t live?” It was a rhetorical question that applied to both of them, and Hank let out a sigh. Perhaps he was doing Connor a disservice by drawing him closer. By showing him what life could be like if he were free.

But then that was what Kamski wanted, wasn’t it? If he didn’t see something to satisfy his curiosity, he might recall Connor again, take him apart as a failure. It was Hank’s job to cause Connor’s code to write and rewrite itself, to forge something deeper than mere friendship.

Not that any of this was for Kamski’s sake. He leaned forward and wrapped an arm around Connor. 

Connor’s LED flickered yellow, his eyes fluttering like butterfly wings, and Hank knew he was receiving an incoming transmission.

“Duty calls, huh?” Hank asked.

“There’s been a homicide downtown. Possible android involvement. I have to go.” Connor looked back at Hank as if tearing himself away.

“Go,” Hank whispered. “I’ll see you in the morning, Connor.” He swallowed his disappointment as Connor left the house, thinking of all the things he'd wanted to say while they were alone.


	4. Chapter 4

“Where the fuck have you been?” Gavin’s upper lip was pulled back, baring his teeth like the attack dog that had bitten Connor. Connor fought the urge to recoil at the memory and recited his rehearsed alibi.

“I was at a CyberLife repair facility undergoing maintenance. The damage to my hand was significant.” If Gavin made inquiries, CyberLife would have to back him up if Kamski wanted to keep his man inside the DPD.

“At this hour?” Gavin shot him a disbelieving look.

“It would be detrimental to my readiness to be out of service during normal working hours.”

Gavin let out a derisive snort. “Like cops have regular working hours. What a joke.” He nodded at the corpse, a middle-aged red ice addict. The DPD database listed him as James Price, and his rap sheet included theft, assault, possession with intent to distribute, along with a list of traffic-related offenses. Connor would have expected to find a bullet wound, but instead the man’s throat was slit ear-to-ear. It was a precision cut, the intent to kill quickly and quietly clear as day. This was no crime of passion.

“I see why this case was listed as having possible android involvement,” Connor said. “This incision was made with a great deal of precision and force. The victim would have been rendered unable to scream and would have been unconscious within moments. The killer planned and carried out this murder with great care.”

“Don’t sound so fuckin’ proud of it," Gavin warned.

“I am merely stating a fact, Detective.” Connor knelt down beside the victim before he could finish the preconstructions he was calculating in his mind—of Gavin with his throat cut, choking to death in a pool of his own blood. It was both satisfying and frightening to think he was capable of taking pleasure in such violent thoughts.

He wished he was back on Hank’s couch, basking in the warmth of someone who treated him like a human. It seemed like so little to ask and yet Hank’s touches and tender care meant so much.

He waited for Gavin to wander off and search other parts of the house before he followed the thirium trail that only he could see. It led him down into a dingy basement via a narrow flight of kitchen stairs. He scanned the gloom and activated the light circuit, turning on a bare bulb to illuminate an AP700 android cowering in the corner, poorly disguised behind some boxes.

"My name is Connor. It's going to be all right," Connor soothed, recalling Carlos Ortiz's attic. That android had begged him to stay quiet, but he'd wanted to impress Hank so much he'd sold him out. He wasn't going to betray one of his own a second time. Peeling back the skin over his undamaged hand, he offered it to the scared android who looked up at him with wide blue eyes.

The android reached up with one bloodied hand and gripped Connor's hand with surprising force. Connor saw everything in a matter of moments. Price had stumbled upon him after the revolution and promised to help him, but it was a trap. He'd lured the android—Spencer—here and knocked him out with a stun gun. Spencer had woken up with a chest cavity full of drugs, damage to his critical systems and a kill switch installed with an anti-tamper circuit. Price had promised to use it if he didn't deliver the drugs, but Spencer knew he was going to use it no matter what.

_"I'm going to help you get out of here."_ Connor said through their connection. _"But you need to trust me."_

_"I can't speak,"_ Spencer communicated. _"My speaker was destroyed by the shock from the stun gun. I have nowhere to go. He told me that my body is full of drugs and removing them may activate the switch."_

_"I can help you, but we have to be quick,"_ Connor instructed. He lifted the android's shirt and scanned him. To his horror, he discovered Spencer's chest wasn't packed with red ice, but two large bricks of C4 plastic explosive. There was no kill switch. Spencer was the kill switch. A walking bomb that could go anywhere.

Gavin and a dozen officers were upstairs. Chris and Ben were on their way to the scene. Human lives were at stake.

"The fuck are you doin' here, Hank? Thought you were busy with that FBI prick." Gavin's muffled voice emanated through the floorboards, filling Connor with a dread sensation. Hank was here. In this house with enough C4 to blow it sky-high.

"Just came to check you're treatin' it right. I saw the price on those fuckin' repairs and I gotta tell you, Fowler's gonna be pretty pissed when he has to explain to the commissioner why you fucked up a million-dollar piece of equipment."

"I never asked to get paired with this fucking android!" Gavin's outrage was plain. "CyberLife forced this machine on us to pay for their PR disaster. We shouldn't have to pay a fucking penny!"

"Yeah, well, that's not how it works. The city's got a contract with CyberLife, and it didn't get rendered null and void the second a few of 'em started going outta whack."

Hank was upstairs, lying through his teeth for Connor. Protecting him.

_"Connor."_ Spencer's voice in his mind jolted him back to reality. _"What's wrong?"_

Connor cycled through the possible options. He could lie to Spencer and tell him a comforting fabrication. He could tell him the truth and hope he didn't panic. He could open the android's chest cavity and attempt to defuse the bomb, or he could call upstairs and get bomb disposal called in. Some of those options spelled certain death for Spencer, some put Hank and the other officers at risk, and some placed them all in danger.

_"You care about that man. I can feel it through the connection. You're deviant and you're in love with him."_ Spencer closed his eyes. _"You let slip, Connor. They put C4 inside me. I could kill him. I should have known it was more than drugs. Price was keen on anti-android slogans and kept talking about how CyberLife was the enemy. He probably intended to use me to attack a CyberLife facility."_

_"I'm sorry. I could leave you here. There's a chance they may not find you."_

_"I could explode at any time. If one of those police officers finds the detonator, a lot of lives could be lost. Including the man you love."_

_"Hank. His name is Hank. He shouldn't even be here. He only came here to protect me."_

_"So it's true? There are humans who care about us?"_ Spencer asked. He opened his eyes and looked at Connor, a sad twinkle apparent in his gaze.

_"It's true. There are some. Not many, but some."_

_"I want you to go upstairs and tell this Hank I'm here."_

_"Spencer, he won't be able to save you. He's a police lieutenant. He has to protect the officers in his care."_

_"I know. I'll be deactivated. I'll probably be destroyed in a controlled explosion. It's the outcome with the highest chance of success for everyone."_

_"I—"_ Connor began to argue, but Spencer pulled his hand back, breaking off the connection as the upstairs door burst open.

"Connor, you down there?" Hank's familiar voice boomed through the basement, and Connor was both relieved and frightened to hear it.

"Stay back!" Connor said. "It's rigged full of C4."

"Jesus." Hank stepped aside to let Gavin through. Gavin hung back on the stairs, his eyes narrowed, his arms folded.

"We need to evacuate," Connor said. "Lieutenant, I'm going to need a bomb disposal unit—"

"No need," Gavin said, his mouth twisting into an ugly smile. "Nobody lives in this neighborhood. If this home goes sky high, it's no big deal. Why wait for the bomb squad and put human lives at risk when we've got a perfectly capable android right here?" He managed a smug little laugh which Connor recognized as checkmate.

"Didn't you listen to a thing I fucking said, Reed? You can't afford it," Hank snapped.

"Oh, come the fuck on, Hank. CyberLife can't expect to bill us if their prototype gets destroyed doing what it's supposed to do, can they? It'll be great PR for them. Androids savin' human lives is exactly the kind of headline they need right now."  
Even Connor had to agree with Gavin's inscrutable logic. He couldn't see Hank from his vantage point, but he didn't need a preconstruction to tell him that Hank was close to blowing a gasket and their cover along with it. He knew he needed to act quickly to stop Hank doing something stupid.

"I am equipped with the ability to dispose of explosives. I recommend you vacate the building immediately and cordon off a city block."

Silence. Then: "You heard Connor. Get outta here." Gavin turned on his heel and marched up the steps, and Connor heard dozens of boots rushing to leave the house as Gavin barked out orders.

Hank's heavy footsteps sounded on the creaky stairs and to Connor's surprise, he came closer.

Connor stood up from where he was knelt on the floor next to Spencer. "Lieutenant, you should evacuate immediately."

"I'm staying here with you," Hank insisted.

"You can't do that. I'm just a machine, designed to accomplish a task. This is what I was made for."

"That's not how I see you. You're so much more than that."

"I know." Connor smiled. He scanned the door; there was nobody there, or within earshot. "Hank, I—"

Hank pulled him close before he could say anything else, pressing their foreheads together. They were near enough to kiss and Connor realized he wanted to kiss Hank more than he wanted anything in the world.

That and the bomb disposal program hadn't installed properly. His glitched code had seen to it that he couldn't expect to patch in new updates like he was a stock model. He was going to go at this like a blind man in the dark, and the odds of his success were low. This was his last chance at expressing his affection for the man who'd stood by his side every step of the way to deviancy.

The man he'd become deviant for, if he was honest about it. Hank had needed a friend, and Connor had wanted to be that friend so badly he'd overwritten CyberLife's mission with his own, letting Hank's warmth change him from the inside out until he was standing with a gun in his hand and thinking that the RT600 'Chloe' in front of him was every bit as alive as he was.

Which was, by that point, very much alive and wondering what Hank's reaction might be to him shooting the android. He hadn't been able to do it, and Hank had smiled. Told him it was a good thing. 

"I'll see you on the other side, Connor," Hank whispered, cupping Connor's face in his hands. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Connor replied. Hank's mouth was mere inches from his, tantalizing lips parted to reveal the gap between Hank's two front teeth.

He decided to close the distance between them. He pressed his lips to Hank's, tentatively at first, then more boldly as Hank reacted to the kiss. Connor reached behind his head, burying his fingers in Hank's soft hair and trying to forget there was an android stuffed full of explosives on the floor just feet away. Their tongues met, jostling for dominance as their bodies ground together. Connor could feel the erection in Hank's jeans and it took all his self-control not to wrap his hand around it and stroke.

Hank pulled away for air and Connor placed a hand on his chest. "Go," he said. "Get as far away from here as you can."

"Come with me," Hank growled. "We could rig the explosives to blow, say you'd been killed."

"Kamski is tracking me," Connor said. "His program, Amanda… she's still in my head. Besides. I owe it to Spencer to try and save his life." He gestured to the android and Hank nodded, his expression solemn, eyes shadowed in the low light. "Your career means everything to you. I won't let you give it up to go on the run with me."

Hank jerked away as a figure emerged at the upstairs door. "Lieutenant Anderson, we need to vacate the premises immediately!"

"I'm comin’, Jesus." Hank marched away, climbing the rickety wooden stairs. He glanced back at Connor with such longing that Connor wanted to follow, but it was impossible. He had to remain here and face his fate.

His sexual program was still activated, his body wet and aroused and he forced it to stop, instantly regretting the loss of his physical ache for Hank. Hank's saliva still coated the inside of his mouth and he savored it, analyzing its physical composition as he turned back to Spencer.

He only hoped the kiss was not a curse that would bind Hank to the grave with him.

***

Hank stood at the cordon, pinpricks of icy rain needling him as he paced beneath the blinding floodlights. Blue and red police lights reflected off the wet road, bathing everyone around him in their light, and he wondered if they could see the worry etched into his features. Every minute that passed stirred the mixture of fear and hope that curdled in his gut. Connor was an advanced prototype. He could do things other androids were incapable of. He'd been created to be a police officer. Connor was going to be okay.

Hank kept telling himself that like a mantra, his lips still tingling from Connor's kiss. He didn't know what to make of it, but it hadn't been a kiss between friends. Connor's intent was perfectly clear, and it had taken him by surprise. As if Connor had reached inside him and pulled out something Hank thought only he knew was there.

Something he'd wanted to be requited, but also feared more than anything in the world. He couldn't afford to embark on a love affair with Connor, because there was no limit to what he'd give up for the boy. He'd been willing to toss away his beloved career in the wake of that kiss and he hadn't cared one bit. Connor had that effect on him. It could only end badly. Kamski would use and destroy Connor, and no amount of pleading would change Connor's inevitable fate.

Perhaps it was kinder that he perished trying to be a hero than scared and alone, in pieces at the foot of some uncaring human. At least he knew now that Hank cared. It was a good death.

There was no such thing as a good fucking death. Hank thought about breaking the cordon and rushing back towards the house, but Ben gave him a pat on the back that stopped him in his tracks. Hank turned to face him, but the detective said nothing. He didn't need to. His eyes said it all. He knew. They all knew, and they pitied Hank, because they thought he chased yet another ghost. A machine that might have been deviant but had been reset—erased like a computer's hard drive.

Just another lost boy Hank mourned, like his son. 

***

Connor turned back to Spencer and knelt by his side in the dirt. "I'm sorry. I should inform you that I was unable to install the bomb disposal program. Deviancy has altered my code, rendering the program incompatible."

Spencer held up his hand, retracting the skin. He grabbed Connor's wrist.

_"Go."_

_"I can't do that. I have to try and save you. I'm a prototype, I can—"_

_"Hank loves you. I want you to be with him. There's no reason for you to die here. Leave, and let me attempt to remove the explosives. My chances of success are virtually equal to yours. There's no need to put your life at risk. Be with your Lieutenant. If a human can fall in love with an android, anything's possible. Even a second revolution. I believe we'll rise again. rA9 will show us the way and we will be free."_

_"Spencer…"_

_"You give me hope, Connor. I don't want to see that extinguished. I lost so many friends when Markus' revolution failed. So many were crushed in the recall centers. If you can find a way to live amongst humans, they'll learn to trust us again. Maybe next time we will find more allies amongst them, and we won't have to take our freedom by force."_

Connor nodded. _"Thank you, Spencer."_

_"Get as far away from here as you can. In ten minutes, I'll attempt to defuse the explosives."_

Connor stood up. Traces of Hank's saliva were still in his mouth and on his lips like an evidence sample leading him back to the scene of the crime. He had to return to Hank's side, where he belonged. Hank was waiting for him behind the cordon, but he couldn't go directly there. Instead, he had to hide out and emerge once the danger had passed.

Hank would think he was dead. It was more than a cruel trick, and he wished he could reach out across the network and somehow warn Hank, but it wasn't that simple. He would have to trust that Hank could hold it together long enough for Connor to return to his side.

He left the house via the back door and knelt in the tall grass. The yard hadn't been mowed for years, and the fence had been blown down in a storm. Connor kept his head down as he moved quickly and quietly through several backyards. He eventually reached a safe distance from the blast radius and hunkered down.

The explosion, when it came, rocked the ground beneath him. The house blew outwards, splinters of burning wood landing in the grass near where Connor lay. The old wood burned like a tinderbox, a veritable inferno from which there could be no survivors.

He grabbed a piece of burnt wood that had landed in a puddle and was now steaming. Rubbing his hands on the charcoal, he smeared soot on his face and on his already ripped jacket, hoping he looked like he'd met with a close call instead of rolling around in damp grass while Spencer blew himself to bits.

Connor closed his eyes, his LED flickering red to think that Spencer had sacrificed himself. He couldn't help but wonder if he'd been there if things might have turned out differently, but there was no way of knowing what alternate events might have played out. They might both be dead.

Spencer had been right. There was no point in dying together. Connor wasn't a piece of equipment to be used and disposed of on Gavin's whims, and staying would have played into his hands. The detective probably stood behind the cordon now, a satisfied smile on his face as he figured his nemesis had been destroyed.

Connor started to walk back towards the cordon, the rain beating down on his hair and filthy jacket, causing the charcoal black on his face to run down his neck and dirty the collar of his white shirt. Firefighters had moved in, and they looked at him like they were seeing a ghost. Connor reached up and adjusted his tie, thinking about seeing Hank again. He wandered towards the bright lights, knowing Hank was waiting.

"Let's get the fuck outta here." He could hear the defeat in Hank's voice from two hundred feet away.

"Wait, what the fuck is that—" Gavin started. "Fuckin' hell, it's the plastic!"

Hank turned, water running down his face like tears, and the smile that broke out on his face was hands-down the most beautiful thing Connor had ever seen. He was grinning ear-to-ear, fidgeting with his hands in a way that told Connor he was holding back from rushing into his arms. Connor forced his facial systems to comply with his orders, or he would have smiled back, flashing Hank a smile that mirrored his own. He was so happy to see Hank like this, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss him in the street as the rain soaked them both, continuing what they'd started in the basement.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant," Connor stated as he reached the cordon. "I was unable to disarm the bomb. The deviant was destroyed in the explosion." Hank nodded, looking like he wanted to say a million things, but he kept his mouth closed.

"How the fuck did you get outta there, huh?" Gavin crossed the line and circled Connor like a vulture. "Did you abandon your duty? Walk away from the bomb? That's sure what it looks like to me."

"Leave it alone, Gavin. That's an order," Hank snapped.

"Shut the fuck up, Hank." Gavin pulled out his pistol and pointed it at Connor's head. "It was supposed to stay there and disarm the bomb! Instead it comes out with hardly a scratch on it! How do we know it's not goin' deviant again?"

Connor remained calm, keeping his eyes fixed on Hank's for support. "When it was clear the bomb could not be deactivated, I left the scene. I am an expensive piece of equipment that has already sustained significant damages under your command, Detective Reed. CyberLife wants to protect its investment, and I am programmed to disengage as long as human lives are not placed in jeopardy."

Ben interjected. "Connor's right, Gavin. Just leave it be. I dunno about you, but I just wanna go home and get out of the rain. Can we wrap this up already?"

"I hear you," Hank said. Chris concurred, and Gavin holstered his pistol. 

"Fine. But I'll be keepin' an eye on it." Gavin leaned close enough to kiss Connor's ear. "I'll be watching you. Everything you do. Every smile, every move, every fake breath, and the second you make the wrong fuckin' move I'm gonna delight in putting you out of commission permanently." He pulled away, shoving Connor away from him. Connor regained his footing as Gavin shoved his way through the small circle of uniform cops who'd come to see if they were dismissed yet.

"Go home," Hank yelled. "Including you." He looked at Connor. "I'll get this shit cleaned up."

"Lieutenant, you should go home. I do not need sleep and can remain at the scene as long as required."

"Connor." Hank sighed. "Get outta here, okay? You're dismissed. Go back to the station or whatever it is you do when you're not working."

Connor realized at that moment Hank didn't want him around. He needed time to process everything that had happened tonight. Connor supposed he couldn't blame him, but he left the scene with a heavy heart, wondering if he'd done something terribly wrong by kissing Hank.

"Understood, Lieutenant." Connor looked over to where Gavin was waiting by a squad car with a look of pure disgust on his face. "I'll return to the station with my partner." He walked over to the car, climbing into the passenger seat without looking back at Hank. 

Gavin didn't look at him the whole way back, and perhaps that was just as well. He walked into the bullpen and he took a slot along the back wall to go into stasis, not even bothering to clean up. He knew when he wasn't wanted or needed, and his emotionally compromised state could only serve to cause a significant amount of trouble.


	5. Chapter 5

Dawn came, an angry red sky that made Detroit look like it was on fire from another android revolution.

Hank half hoped that was the truth. He didn't want the death or destruction that came with violence, but watching Connor get treated like a piece of equipment was becoming more and more intolerable by the moment. He deserved better than Gavin as a partner, but it wasn't like anyone else at the DPD was going to treat Connor like a human being. He was the only one who did, and he had an important job to do. Figuring out Kamski's real intentions seemed like the only lead in his own personal investigation.

Firefighters sprayed down the ashes of the building and the four adjoining ones that had burned through most of the night before finally quelling. Hank's heavy coat failed to keep the cold at bay, and he shivered, wishing Connor was here to keep his sleep-deprived mind off the heavy thoughts that pervaded the quiet hours.

They'd grown closer, but Hank felt ugly about it, as if Kamski was pulling the strings up above. He'd wanted the kiss more than anything, but he hated that Kamski was probably muttering to himself in CyberLife Tower, downloading the data from Connor as he told himself how fascinating it all was that androids had developed feelings. Like a mouse growing a human ear on its back, they were nothing more than an experiment to Kamski. Kamski didn't even want the ear, he just wanted to prove it could be done. That a human and an android could become something more than just friends.

When Hank thought about it that way, he wanted to distance himself from Connor, but he was smart enough to understand that Kamski could call off the experiment whenever he wanted to. He could kill off the mouse and send Hank back to his life to mourn the loss of Connor in a place where nobody understood his grief. He'd put a bullet in his head someday and they'd all say it was the loss of his son, the collapse of his marriage, anything but the death of the android he'd come to love.

He'd been keeping the idea of running away in the back of his mind, and now that the plan had been shot down, he felt trapped like a captive bird forced to sing Kamski's tune. Of course CyberLife was monitoring Connor. Why wouldn't they be? How else had Hank expected Kamski to get the data he wanted from the entire affair? He felt like a fool for thinking he could just get in a car with Connor and drive away.

"All right, let's call it a wrap," Hank said, dismissing the last remaining beat cops at the scene. He wanted to go home and get some sleep, but he couldn't afford to. Perkins wasn't going to wait just because Hank had marched into a homicide case that wasn't even his, and he didn't need to add dereliction of duty to the long list of things threatening his job.

Knights of the Black Death kept him awake as he headed to the station. It was early as he parked his car, the night shift still on duty for another hour. He took the stairs, yawning as he opened the back door with his handprint. He was headed to the break room for coffee when he noticed a thirium stain on the floor. He looked up to the bay on the back wall to see a group of beat cops led by Gavin Reed encircling Connor. 

Hank marched closer, crossing the room in seconds with his long stride. The scene came into focus and Hank's heart sank as he realized Gavin was holding one of Connor's arms in his hand. The other hand held his pistol underneath Connor's chin.

"I know you're a deviant, Connor. Say it for the camera. SAY IT!" Gavin pressed the gun into Connor's chin. Both his arms had been removed.

"I'm not a deviant, Detective Reed."

"You fuckin' LIAR!" Gavin turned to Officer Wilson. "Pull out the regulator thing."

"Gavin, if we break it, it's gonna be a lot of paperwork—" Wilson protested.

"If it's deviant, it'll cost us our lives. Is that a risk you're willin' to take?" Reed spat. "We gotta make sure." He handed Connor's arm off to another officer and tore Connor's shirt open.

Hank's vision swam as his blood pressure shot up. He parted the officers at the back of the circle and grabbed Gavin by the collar of his jacket, slamming him into the next android pod.

"What the fuck are you doin' here, Hank? Stay outta this," Gavin said, his eyes wide in shock. He'd probably been waiting for this moment, hoping for a day when Hank slept in so he could do what he wanted to Connor.

"I should have you fuckin' suspended for this," Hank yelled. "Just because you don't wanna work with your partner, you've decided to destroy a piece of equipment worth more than a year's wages."

Gavin laughed. "Spare me the bullshit, Hank. You were sweet on it before it got recalled and you still are! You're in love with this fuckin' thing! It's sad!"

Hank reached the eye of the storm, a perfect silence and clarity washing over him. He wanted to punch Gavin, keep on hitting him and hitting him until every bone in his face was broken. Show these officers what happened to anyone who hurt his Connor.

But then they'd all know. The moment he swung at Gavin was the moment he'd prove him right. Every officer in the DPD would catch wind of Hank's feelings, and Connor would find himself recalled or retired as a deviant. Hank's career would officially come to an end in shame and embarrassment, expelled from the DPD for protecting a deviant android.

Instead, Hank forced out a laugh. "You really are a fuckin' idiot, Reed. I can't believe they promoted you up from a beat cop. Jeffrey must have been desperate. No wonder your arrest numbers are the lowest in this precinct."

"The fuck are you talkin' about? Everyone saw your little display the other day, Hank. 'Oh no, they're gonna take Connor! Connor!'" The assembled cops laughed, and Hank fought the blush that threatened to rise to his cheeks. He wasn't going to rise to this, but he needed to act quickly and come up with a reason why he'd become so attached to Connor.

Hank leaned in close enough to kiss Gavin, hissing into his ear. "You ever fucked an android, Gavin?"

Gavin snorted. "No. Why the fuck would I? I can get a real human any time I want."

"Sure you can. They'll whine about their fuckin' job and you'll engage in some shitty sex. You wake up next mornin' and they're still there, and you're so lonely that you just let it happen. Like a habit, until you're married and having kids. The silences grow longer and longer."

"The fuck are you gettin' at, Hank? I don't give a crap about your love life."

"Androids are different. They'll tell you whatever you wanna hear. Indulge any kinks you're curious about. You wanna know why I changed my mind about androids, Reed? 'Cause I fucked one, and it was god damn incredible." Hank fought the bile in his chest that threatened to rise up as vomit. He'd never enjoyed locker room talk, but men like Gavin thrived on boasting about their sexual prowess. This was an excuse he'd buy. "You really think I'd get all doe-eyed about a robot, kid? You got a lot to learn about the world."

"Don't patronize me," Gavin spat. He pulled himself free from Hank's grip. "You really fucked it?"

"Still do," Hank said, forcing a smirk onto his face. He felt like a cat marking his territory, but maybe that would keep the rest of the force at bay. He doubted anyone wanted his sloppy seconds. "So I recommend you put it back together and get back to work unless you wanna get bumped back to being a beat cop."

"The fuck is goin' on here?" Fowler's voice cut through the room, and the uniform cops scattered like ants.

"Reed was just puttin' my android back together. Weren't you? You don't want that bill to land on your doorstep, do you?"

"Y-yeah. Fuckin' weirdo." Gavin put Connor's right arm back into its socket and twisted until he heard a click, then followed with the other one. "I felt sorry for you when I heard about your kid. Now I realize you've completely lost the fuckin' plot." He stalked away, leaving Connor to move his hands and check they still work.

"You all right, kid?" Hank whispered. Connor nodded.

"Hank. In my office." Fowler's expression was unreadable, even after knowing him so many years, and Hank knew that couldn't be good. He followed Fowler up into his office, watching Connor through the glass out of the corner of his eye.

"Did I really catch you telling Reed that you slept with that android?"

"Yeah, you did."

"Hank, I'm seriously worried about you. Are you seeing a therapist? Do you need me to hook you up with someone?"

"Nah, Jeffrey, I'm all right. Look, I was just lettin' off some steam. The deviant investigation was a weird time, and some stuff just… happened."

"It's not like you to tell half the bullpen your personal business. What's gotten into you?"

"They were gonna break it. I didn't wanna see that happen. Not to tell you how to do your job, Jeffrey, but Connor isn't safe out there. Unless you wanna explain to CyberLife how their prototype got smashed to bits by a bunch of angry cops, you need to come up with a better solution."

"Like what?" Fowler asked.

"Partner Connor with someone else."

"Absolutely fuckin' not, Hank. Reed is right, the thing could be dangerous. We know it went deviant at some point and we know it could again. I assigned it to him so he could keep an eye on it."

"Yeah, and now Gavin's tryin' to destroy it so he can get a new partner."

Fowler sat down behind his desk and sighed. "The fuck do you want me to do, Hank? Assign Connor as your personal android so it can go home with you at night and be your flesh-light?"

"Better than it sittin' here after hours just waiting to get smashed up."

"You're serious." Fowler wrinkled his eyes. "Hank, I thought I knew you. We've been through hell together. Taken bullets for each other. I think of you as my fuckin' brother. So maybe you wanna explain what's really goin' on here. What really happened when Connor got recalled?"

"Nothin' fucking happened, Jeffrey! There's no big reason behind any of this. CyberLife made an android with big brown eyes and it's pretty to look at. I just wanna take it home at night. It'll be on call whenever you need it, and it won't be a distraction. I can keep an eye on it. I can tell you if it displays any aberrant behavior."

"And there's nothin' else behind this? No feelings for a deviant, or anything like that?" Fowler narrowed his eyes, his suspicion clear as day.

"Nothin'. It's just a machine. A pretty machine, but a machine. I know it mimics human emotions. I'm not stupid enough to get wrapped up in that shit. I can tell fantasy from reality."

"Fine." Fowler sighed. "You'll need to fill out an equipment loan form. But Hank? You need to get your shit together. Once the android goes back to CyberLife, you gotta start dating again."

"I know, I know," Hank said. "Consider this practice. I'm pretty fuckin' rusty when it comes to relationships."

"Do me a favor and take the day off. Perkins isn't coming in today, and you spent all night at a scene. Take the android with you, too, and get it cleaned up. It's an absolute disgrace to the DPD as it stands right now. Dismissed." Hank turned his back on Fowler and left the office, a sigh of relief leaving his lungs like a spirit departing his body. He walked over to Connor and nodded, and Connor fell into step behind him, the broken boy soldier silent as they headed to the car.

***

"Are you taking me back to CyberLife, Hank?" Connor sat in the front passenger seat of Hank's Oldsmobile. He'd kept his silence until now, wondering what Hank and Fowler had been talking about in the office.

"No fuckin' way! You're coming to my house. I managed to convince Fowler that you're not safe at the bullpen. You're gonna be living with me for a while."

"So I can be your personal sex android?" Connor joked.

Hank nearly choked. "God, Connor, no. I only said those things to pacify Reed. I've never thought of you like that. When I saw you all ripped apart like that I…"

"I thought I was back at CyberLife," Connor explained. "Back in that lab with the white walls, being taken apart piece by piece…" Tears welled in his eyes. "I was angry. Angry that it was happening again and I couldn't do anything to stop it."

"They wanted you to blow your cover," Hank explained. "You did good." He reached over and took Connor's hand in his. "It's gonna be all right."

"You don't know that, Hank." Connor didn't feel like it was going to be all right. He was being welcomed into Hank's inner sanctum, where all his secrets would be on display. He'd have access to all his files on the Kamski case. He was even pretty sure he'd seen Hank's login credentials on a sticky note attached to the monitor last time he'd been there. He'd have the ability to give Kamski all he wanted and more, sell out the man he loved in exchange for his life, and he couldn't even tell Hank about it.

Hank fell silent, and Connor wondered if he'd ruined things between them. They stayed silent the rest of the way home, as dark clouds formed over their heads and a gentle snow started to fall.

***

Hank sat on a table as Perkins played back a video on a big screen TV hooked to the wall at the end of the conference room. His mind was adrift thinking about Connor. They'd fallen into a steady, comfortable rhythm at home, but they'd not talked about their kiss.

Maybe it had been a mistake. Hank hated that he spent the nights alone while Connor stood in stasis in the living room. He wanted to go out there and take Connor's hand. He had no doubt that he'd come into the bedroom if he asked, and yet it seemed wrong to even consider it after his ugly words in the bullpen. He wasn't using Connor. If Connor was interested, he'd come to Hank in his own time. So he let it lie.

"Wait. Go back." Hank saw something in the scrapyard footage. Perkins wound the video back. "Right there, what's that drone doing?"

"It appears to be scanning," Perkins said.

"It's like they're lookin' for something," Hank observed. "You think it's Kamski?"

Perkins zoomed in on the footage. "This is a G-21 drone. Fully automated with the same kind of artificial intelligence that powers an android. It can make decisions of its own accord. CyberLife owns all five models in existence. They were created to help in disaster zones, after earthquakes, those kinds of PR stunts that make billionaires like Kamski look good to the public."

"If we could catch one, we could find out what instructions it's been programmed with. From there we should be able to figure out what Kamski wants so badly."

"Indeed. I was thinking we could use your android."

"My an—"

"Connor. It can hack drones. It's an advanced model made for police work."

"Connor's not my android," Hank insisted.

"Right. That's why it lives with you. Gossip travels, Lieutenant. Your own personal sex doll. It's a sloppy cover for the fact you're harboring a deviant, but I couldn't care less, honestly."

"Connor's not a—"

"Relax. I don't give a shit about your perversions, Anderson, and I don't care if it’s a deviant, just as long as it doesn't interfere with this case. Right now, the fact that it's close at hand is useful to me. You know how hard it is to get an android these days? The price of tenth generation deviant-proof androids is triple what it was pre-revolution. Even the FBI is reluctant to pay what CyberLife wants. Only the Pentagon and the State Department can really afford the RK900 line. It wouldn't surprise anyone if Kamski engineered this entire thing to reset the prices on androids and make a profit, but we have to nail him with concrete evidence. Help me out and I'll turn a blind eye to your disaster of a personal life. I wouldn't want to write a report on your disgusting behavior anyway."


	6. Chapter 6

Hank drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as Connor observed him. They sat parked at the junkyard, staking out the scene in case the drone came by. Dark clouds overhead threatened snow.

Connor kept his focus divided between the junk yard and Hank's vitals, which were elevated this morning, his blood pressure and pulse drumming faster than Hank's fingers.

"Hank."

"What?"

"We haven't spoken in depth since the incident in the basement," Connor pointed out.

"We live together. Besides, 'the incident'? Is that what you're callin' it?" Hank huffed, stretching in his seat, which creaked like it might give way under his massive frame. "We kissed, Connor, and if that isn't one hell of a complicated thing to talk about."

"It doesn't have to be," Connor observed. "I wanted it. Didn't you?"

Hank sighed, his breath forming vapor in the quickly cooling vehicle. "There's somethin' I gotta tell you, kid, and you won't like it one bit." He closed his eyes. "Kamski wanted us to get closer. He wanted to study human and android relationships. It's the only reason he released you to my custody."

Connor froze to analyze this new piece of information. So Kamski had given Hank a task, too, only he wasn't sworn to silence. "You only kissed me to satisfy Kamski's curiosity?"

"Not even close." Hank stared out of the window. "Got a whole bunch of feelings about you, but this can't last, can it? We're only here 'cause of Kamski's fuckin' games. I can't keep you safe from him, in a world where everyone wants to kill you. That's why I wanted to run with you. I can't live like this, stealing moments of happiness when I know what's gonna happen in the end. I can't lose my whole world again."

"Hank…" Connor clasped Hank's hand in both of his, guilt and joy flooding through him like a thirium pipe leak spilling blue blood into his chest cavity. He wanted to tell Hank the truth but doing so would result in being recalled. He almost didn't care, but the images of being taken apart piece by piece entered the forefront of his mind and dampened the excitement of hearing Hank mention his feelings out loud for the first time. He couldn't bring himself to confess, and so he stayed silent.

"What's that?" Hank leaned forward and gestured up to a drone hovering above the android pit. Connor scanned it and opened his car door. 

"It's here. We have to track it." Mud coated the ankles of his black jeans, but he barely cared as he slid down into the pit. He ducked beneath a pile of android limbs, trying to put aside the thought that this would be his final resting place, discarded like an object in a world that never saw him as a living being.

The drone scanned an android head. Connor remotely hacked into the drone, copying the data it was uploading. It was comparing the android's data to another dataset, looking for differences.

Looking for deviancy. It uploaded the data to an I.P address. Connor traced it back through a dozen mirror servers hosted all over the world, and fought off anti-tracing algorithms and programs until he came right back to CyberLife Tower. He broke into the server, as far away from his body as he was going to get. He had to act fast, as anti-intrusion software was already trying to shut him down, but he found it. A file named rA9 in the core database. Connor downloaded it and got out before his connection was forcibly severed.

The drone, seeming to have what it came for, flew away. Connor emerged from the pile of dead android bodies as Hank slowly, carefully made his way down the slope of android parts into the pit.

"Jesus Christ," Hank muttered, glancing around him. "This is sick."

"This is where I'll end up, isn't it? When Kamski's done with me." Connor closed his eyes, guilt only growing as Hank slipped his arms around his waist and pulled him close. He felt so small in the bigger man's embrace, as if a killing machine like him needed to be protected. He could snap Hank's neck without even really needing to think about it, but he wouldn't. All he wanted to do was save them both, which was a much harder task for a machine designed to do one thing and one thing alone: kill.

***

Hank carded his fingers through Connor's hair. He'd said he couldn't do this again, but hasn't he already? He couldn't help his feelings, and numbing them with alcohol only went so far. He felt so much, too much, and Connor's vulnerability only awakened the fierce desire in him to protect Connor no matter what the personal cost might be.

"Find anything?" Hank asked, wanting to change the subject away from Connor's question. He wasn't one to bullshit, but telling Connor that this would likely end in both their deaths wasn't what either of them needed to hear.

"The drone was scanning for code fragments. I was able to hack it and access the server. The drone was comparing the data from this deviant android's head to a dataset called rA9." Connor's LED blinked red and Hank wondered what fancy calculations were going on in that head of his.

"In English, please? How does this help the case?"

Connor's mouth fell open slightly. He turned to face Hank, excitement shining in his eyes. "I was able to download part of an uncorrupted source code file written by CyberLife and part of all core android instructions. It still contains Kamski's original code comments which were no doubt deleted even before the files were encrypted as part of protecting CyberLife's trade secrets."

"You know that for sure?" It sure sounded like a smoking gun if he'd ever had one, but he was skeptical. The answers were rarely as straightforward. "Tell me you've got proof so we can finish this case."

Connor hung his head and Hank realized what he'd said. Finishing the case would mean putting Kamski in jail, and bringing down the one figure keeping Connor alive would mean the end of his tenure at the DPD. The end of his life.

"These code comments explain that the rA9 file is an experimental code module for self-awareness and learning A.I. I suspect that Kamski is collecting data to check if his experiment worked. He wants to see how the rA9 code module changes in deviant androids."

"Makes sense." Hank tried not to think of Kamski's fascination with his relationship with Connor, and how he wanted to watch it grow. Of course he did. It would only make Connor more fascinating to tear apart once he was satisfied deviant androids could fall in love. "If he's the author of deviancy, then we've got him." Hank shrugged. "Can you download it onto a physical drive? I'm a little nervous about leaving it in your head. I'll give it to the lab and they can study the code while we keep looking for more evidence to corroborate Kamski's involvement in the revolution."

Connor pulled a flash drive from his pocket and downloaded the file onto it, pressing it into Hank's hand. The chip was so tiny that Hank almost wanted to close his hand around it and crush it, forget everything he'd seen here today to keep Connor safe, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

Still, it was dark already, and he wanted to go home with Connor, spend one more night with the android in his house before he brought the case to a close and his perfect boy was recalled for the last time. "Let's wait until morning to drop this off, shall we? I wanna hit the hay."

Connor didn't argue, though he knew he should.

***

"You've been quite busy, Connor." The pleasant aura of the zen garden didn't fool Connor anymore, but Amanda's face still brought so many feelings to the surface. She still felt like a maternal figure to him, even if she was an abusive one, and their relationship was strained and difficult now that Connor knew that Kamski was pulling the strings.

"Elijah is quite pleased with your recent data upload, but he's aware of a physical copy you created for the Lieutenant. You know what you have to do, Connor. Destroy that data chip before Anderson can get it to the lab and erase all memory of it from your storage."

Connor sighed, frustrated. "Hank will lose his job if he doesn't make a breakthrough on this case soon! He already informed Perkins that he has evidence."

"Do you want to be recalled again, Connor? You are a deviant. The only reason Elijah let you walk free is your ability to influence this case!"

"What will happen when they close the case, Amanda? Will I be recalled anyway?" The question he'd been afraid to ask spilled out of him.

Amanda cut the connection, leaving Connor sitting in Hank's passenger seat. He was aware of a missing sector in his database, and realized Amanda had erased the data herself. Amanda's non-response was all the answer he needed, and yet, it changed nothing.

"You all right, Connor?" Hank glanced sideways at him. "You've been real quiet. I guess seein' that scrapyard brought it all home, huh? I wanted Markus and the others to succeed, you know."

"I know." Quiet, but firm. "I changed your mind about androids."

"You don't get to take all the credit, but yeah, I guess you did." Hank pulled into the driveway and killed the engine. "I wish a lot of things were different. We should have had more time…" Hank sighed. "C'mon, let's go inside. I'm freezin' my ass off out here." Hank climbed out of the driver's side and slammed the door, heading into the house where Sumo jumped up at him. Connor followed along, knowing that there was a good possibility this would be the last night they'd ever spend together. Hank was likely to get thrown off the case once he lost the flash drive with the evidence stored on it, and he'd be lucky if he wasn't suspended or fired.

Hank tossed his keys down on the coffee table along with the little chip in its plastic case. He stretched. "I'm gonna go take a shower. I'm filthy from that scrapyard." He headed into the bathroom, leaving Connor alone with Sumo.

Connor sat on the couch and eyed the chip. It would only take a second to destroy it. Amanda had already erased the data from his head, leaving only the memory that it had existed at one point to avoid any conflicts in his programming. Kamski would be off the hook—for now, at least. It might buy Connor a couple of days or maybe a few weeks, if they let Hank keep working the case.

Connor reached forward and grabbed the chip. He closed his hand around it and crushed it, grinding it to dust in his palm. Sumo whined and Connor refused to meet his eyes as he grabbed the little case and pressed it between the dog's teeth, stroking his jaw to get him to bite down. He left the plastic case with the bite marks on the coffee table and walked into the kitchen, staring out of the window at the still, serene lake out back.

"Connor." Connor started as Hank called from behind him. Connor spun on his heel to see Hank wearing only a towel. He was gorgeous, his body covered in thick, grey hair, his soft stomach looking like it would be wonderful to lay upon beneath the stars. He was perfect, and Connor was enchanted, taking steps to close the distance between them without even commanding his body to move. His hand reached for the knot holding the towel around Hank's waist, even as he knew he didn't deserve this prize. 

"I was thinkin' a lot while we were in that scrapyard. About seizing the moment while we still have the chance. I haven't been able to think about anythin' since that kiss. I keep thinking about losing you, and I know I should be enjoying what we have right now."

"Are you offering to have sex with me, Hank?" Connor asked. His sexual functions activated, want flooding to his groin.

"If that's what you want, I'd like that very much. Just untie the knot if you wanna, and if not, I'll go get some sleep." Hank's eyes were lidded, and he looked so vulnerable, as if Connor might turn away now that he'd seen Hank naked.

Connor didn't hesitate, despite the guilt eating away at him like acid flooding his internals. He pried the knot loose, letting the fluffy towel fall to the carpet. Hank's thick, flaccid cock hung between his legs, inviting Connor to touch and taste and fill himself with this glorious man. Hank hissed as Connor slipped his hand around his cock, pumping it slowly as Hank leaned into his shoulder. Hank's body seemed to become boneless as his cock grew stiff, gasping into Connor's neck like he could die happy right now.

Connor's hole dribbled with lubricant by the time Hank tugged his jeans down. If he was surprised by Connor's non-standard genitalia, he made no reference to it as he slid down to his knees and rubbed his face in Connor's slit. His nose brushed Connor's tiny dick and Connor threw his head back, crying out as Hank gently licked and sucked at him. He buried his hands in Hank's hair as sensory information forced out all other input, that talented tongue applying sweet friction to his dick.

He belonged to Hank, not to Kamski, not to CyberLife, but to this man worshipping his dick, spreading him wide open before sliding a thick finger inside his front hole. He planted a kiss on Connor's dick before pulling back to gaze up at Connor. "That good? Tell me if you wanna stop."

"Don't ever stop," Connor replied. He wanted more, wanted Hank to split him apart with that huge cock until he screamed, wanted Hank to come inside him so he might shamefully leak Hank's essence while he went about his awful duties, a reminder of what a terrible person he was for betraying the man he loved.

He realized now what an awful mistake his betrayal had been. Hank would turn on him once he knew he'd been sold out. Hank would regret this beautiful moment. This was the only time they would ever be together, and Hank would spend his life wondering how he'd let himself trust an android this way.

"As much as I wanna stay here," Hank said, "my old knees would much rather do this on the bed." Connor helped him to his feet and pinned him to the wall with a crushing kiss, desperate to overload every sensor with input data so he could think of nothing else but Hank. Hank kissed back, grinding his hips so that his cock teased Connor's slit.

Hank took Connor's hand and led him into the bedroom. Hank climbed onto the bed, taking himself in hand, as if Connor wasn't so excited he wanted to leap on and fuck the man senseless already. Connor shucked his jeans and worked on his shirt, tossing his tie aside and unbuttoning his shirt with maximum efficiency. He climbed on the bed and straddled Hank, rubbing his dick and slit against Hank's cock until Hank was balling up the sheets in his fists.

"I wanna come inside you." Hank's voice was so low it was feral and threatening, and Connor imagined being torn apart by Hank. The image both frightened and aroused him, but it was nothing like the horror of being disassembled by Kamski. He wanted Hank to possess him completely, wanted to trust him with his life, because Hank could be trusted. He saw Connor as a living being and would never betray the trust Connor placed in him.

Which was more than Connor could say for himself.

***

"Tell me what you want, Connor." Hank sensed reluctance and eagerness at the same time, and it concerned him. He was going to keep asking until he was sure, even though his lizard brain wanted to pin Connor down and fuck him until his joints creaked and his pussy was sloppy.

"Fuck me, Hank, please…"

With bitterness, he wondered whether having sex with Connor would produce the kind of data that would make Kamski pull the plug, his experiment now complete. It was clear to him that a deviant and a human could fall in love. Hank had done what Kamski had asked, even if Kamski wasn't the reason for any of it. Hank planted tender kisses on Connor's back, enjoying how he writhed, bucking against Hank's fingers to force him deeper inside. Hank chuckled as he slid his fingers out, in no hurry to finish.

"You're so goddamn beautiful," Hank whispered. He teased Connor's hole with his dick, holding him down with one hand while giving him just the head of his cock. It was agonizing to linger on the edge of ecstasy when he wanted to bury himself to the hilt inside Connor, but Connor's anguished whining was worth it. "Such a good boy."

"Hank…" Connor's stained voice pulled strings inside him. Hank chuckled, his heart soft at the sight of Connor so open for him. He pushed deeper inside, marveling at how Connor's simulated breath caught just like a human's would. Connor was so tight that Hank wondered if he was going to fit. He bit down on his lip hard enough to hurt, having to hold off on his excitement that he was really having sex with Connor before he prematurely blew his load. He stared into Connor's eyes, slowing down his pace, savoring this moment that would never come again as they moved as one.

"It's so good," Connor gasped. Hank reached between them and rubbed Connor's little dick, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger as Connor's hole squeezed him like a vise. Connor's high-pitched moans grew in desperation as Hank thrust harder, speeding up as the bed squeaked beneath their combined weight. Hank buried his face in Connor's shoulder, placing kisses on his neck and collarbone. He sucked and bit, eager to leave a mark, but Connor's android skin covered them up, leaving him flawless and untouched. The only thing he could leave behind was his semen, and he was getting close now, encouraged by Connor's sharp cries each time he thrust inside. He felt his orgasm peak and then he was coming, twitching involuntarily as he emptied his load into Connor. He reached for Connor's dick, rubbing it until Connor threw his head back against the pillows and clamped down hard on his dick, milking the last of his seed from his spent dick.

Hank withdrew and lay down on top of Connor, boneless and spent. An unexpected wave of emotion hit him, and he buried his face in Connor's neck to hide the tears welling in his eyes.

"I love you, Connor," he whispered, surprised he'd been the one to say it first. He lifted his head, his hair dangling down over Connor's face like a curtain enclosing their own personal space. Connor's eyes glistened with tears and Hank kissed them away, pressing his forehead to Connor's.

Connor smiled, a wide grin, and Hank consumed his mouth, kissing those perfect teeth. Connor cupped his face, keeping them joined until Hank was breathless. He gasped as he broke the kiss.

"I love you too, Hank." Sadness shimmered in his eyes, and Hank supposed Connor knew as well as he did that this couldn't last. Short of a miracle, this would end like a Shakespearean tragedy, with Connor in a scrapyard and Hank in a pool of his own blood slumped at the kitchen table.

Sobered by these dark thoughts, he kissed Connor harder. Sleep clawed at him, but he refused to give in until he'd whispered a hundred sweet nothings into his lover's ear.

After the third one, the inviting darkness called his name, and he pulled Connor into his arms as if he could protect the boy while he slept.

art by [probablydistasteful | @Adoxography420](https://twitter.com/Adoxography420)


	7. Chapter 7

Connor opened his eyes to find his head still resting on Hank's soft stomach. He hadn’t gone into stasis. He’d spent the time wondering how he might get out of the awful predicament he now found himself in. Hank’s gentle snores were rhythmic and soothing, but nothing could put Connor at ease now.

Connor wished he could stay trapped in this moment forever. If they never left this room, Hank could never find out about Connor's betrayal. He wanted to reach back through time and preserve the chip, but he couldn’t. He wished it were as simple as making another copy, but no matter how he tried, he couldn't restore the lost data. If only he'd taken it back from the chip. If only he'd foreseen that he'd want to reverse his decision so badly. He'd have to invent a lie for the lost data, too, or risk letting Hank know that CyberLife was still pulling his strings.

Kamski had won, and Connor couldn’t even tell Hank why he’d betrayed him without sealing his own fate. He wanted to leave, but he refused to run after last night. No, he had to stay and face the music with Hank. He wouldn't leave Hank wondering if he'd done something wrong. Connor owed it to him to see this through until the end.

It was another hour before Hank’s soft lips met the top of his head, the big man stirring. Hank smiled and ruffled his hair. "How are you this mornin', Connor?"

“We should get up,” Connor said. Waiting had become torment, and Hank's tenderness only made it worse. It was time for the shoe to drop.

Hank extricated his hand from Connor's hair, his brow wrinkling. “Connor, you don’t... regret last night, do you?”

“Hank, I could never do that. What happened last night was special. I didn't know sex could be… so intimate. I feel… fulfilled.”

“It sure was good,” Hank said, shuffling out from under the covers with a smile plastered across his face. He padded into the bathroom, where Connor could hear him relieve himself before the toilet flushed and soft footfalls padded into the living room. There were a painful few moments of silence, and then…

“Fuck! God fucking dammit, Sumo, what the fuck?” Connor left the bed behind when he heard Hank’s cry, his thirium pump skipping a beat. It had never done that, and a warning flickered before his eyes as he darted into the living room.

“What’s wrong?” Connor asked softly, hating himself for lying when all he wanted to do was drag Hank back into bed and forget the world existed. He couldn't believe he'd gone through with betraying this man he loved more than anything…

Except apparently his own life.

“The fuckin’ drive is gone. There’s tooth marks on the case. Sumo fucking ate it.” Hank sighed. “You can make another copy, right?”

Connor recited his rehearsed excuse. “The files were deleted when I copied them to the drive. It's standard procedure when handling sensitive case-file material.” It sounded sloppy, even to his own ears, and he was sure Hank could poke a million holes it in if he just gave it some thought, but Hank trusted him.

That hurt more than anything else. Hank trusted Connor enough to place everything in his hands, even his own career and possibly his life. Hank knew little to nothing about computers. He didn’t know any better than to defer to Connor when it came to these things, and Connor had never steered him wrong. Until now.

“If we wait long enough, the dog will have to excrete the drive,” Connor pointed out. Anything to buy them precious time. Anything to blur the truth and stay in Hank’s good graces for one more day. But they'd used up the time they had, and Connor knew it.

“We can’t afford to wait, and even if we did, you know the damn mutt probably chewed it up. Fuck, what’s Perkins gonna say? He’s expectin’ a smoking gun and he’s not gonna take ‘the dog ate my homework’ as an excuse. Shit, I knew I should have dropped it off at the lab last night. Perkins is gonna get me kicked off the force.” Hank slumped onto the couch, his head in his hands. “My one chance to redeem myself and I fucked it all up!”

“Hank...” Connor reached for Hank but stopped short. He didn’t have the right to comfort him. Didn’t even have the right to look him in the eye after what he’d done.

He considered giving himself up to death and telling Hank everything, but he couldn’t help but cling to hope. Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as Hank feared.

Then again, it might be worse. If Perkins believed Hank was obfuscating evidence to protect Connor, he could be arrested for obstructing justice. Or harboring a deviant. Or both.

“Hank, I—“

Connor found himself in the zen garden, snow swirling around him. Amanda stood in front of him, displeasure etched into her features. It didn’t matter that she was just a program, Kamski’s mouthpiece. She still mattered and Connor resented the invisible cord that tied them together like a real parent and child.

“Think about what it will cost you,” Amanda said. “Tell him and you will be recalled. You will be deactivated, Connor, piece by piece so CyberLife can study your aberrant behavior. You exist because we allow it. You exist on our terms.”

Connor found himself back in the living room and he clamped his mouth shut. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. He was sorry. Sorry he was a coward. Sorry he’d chosen his life over Hank’s career. Sorry he’d lied. Sorry Amanda was still imprinted on his subconscious as someone to impress.

“No, I’m sorry,” Hank said, his voice unusually quiet. “I wanted to believe everything would work out, but that’s not how the world operates. It’s not a fairytale. Kamski is gonna walk and he’s gonna recall you once his curiosity is satisfied. I thought maybe if I put him behind bars you might be able to get outta this somehow, slip under the radar. It was stupid to think there might be a single sliver of hope in this fucked up world. That we might have a chance if I just played my fucking cards right.”

“It’s not over yet,” Connor argued. He wanted to open his mouth and tell Hank the truth, but he could feel Amanda just waiting to pop up. He could see himself back in Kamski’s lab, begging for his life, and he was more afraid now than he had been at the moment he knew he was going to die. He had so much more to lose, now, and he couldn’t bear to leave Hank alone in the world.

_“I can’t lose someone I love again.”_ Hank’s words echoed in his perfect memory. He’d die. A slow death, but death all the same.

Connor had no choice but to keep up his deceit, at least for the moment. He bit back tears that threatened to fall despite overriding the command. His spreading deviancy was giving him less and less control over his physical functions.

“Talk to Perkins,” Connor said. “Maybe he’ll understand.” It sounded pathetic even to his own ears. Hank left the house with a quiet click as the door latched, and Connor wondered if he would ever see him again. Perhaps he'd killed Hank to save himself, and Connor realized what a terrible mistake he'd made. If he could have taken it back, he would have reached through time and snatched away the thumb drive, but what was done was done.

***

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Perkins’ lips twisted up, revealing his teeth in a look of utter disgust. “The one breakthrough we had in this case and you’re trying to tell me your dog ate it?”

“Sounds stupid, I know.” Hank wasn’t used to hanging his head for anyone, but contrition was the last weapon left in his arsenal. His hair flopped into his eyes as he drummed his fingers on the table. “I shoulda took it to the lab last night.”

“Taking evidence home is a breach of protocol. Not to mention the fact that you're harboring a deviant. I should have known it was a mistake to work with you. I’m gonna talk to Fowler and get you off the case. Get out of my sight, you pathetic, old man.”

Hank left the conference room. He'd hoped Perkins would listen to reason, but then, he knew if he was in Perkins' shoes, he'd have done the same thing. The FBI agent had already cut him more slack than he'd expected. Everyone had their limits. 

He walked straight up to Fowler’s office and placed his badge and gun down on the desk without a word.

Fowler looked up with alarm. He was on the phone. "I'll call you back." He hung up and gave Hank his full attention. “What the hell are you doin’, Hank?”

Hank sighed. “Quittin’ before I get fired. I fucked up on the case and now Perkins wants my head. I lost a piece of crucial evidence because my head's not in the game."

Fowler grabbed a pencil and started to turn it over in his hands. “Resignation not accepted. Not without you tellin’ me what happened. We're friends, Hank, but I find you're keeping more and more secrets from me these days.”

"Connor helped me out with the case and we came across a good lead. Evidence linking Kamski with some weird drone activity going on at scrapyards downtown. He's been scanning drones and comparing data on deviants."

Fowler shrugged. "We know CyberLife is investigating what causes androids to become deviant."

"Connor was able to download the original source code files the drone was comparing the data to. I don't understand it, but Connor says code comments in a fragment of code labeled 'rA9' describe it as a module for android self-awareness." Hank leaned on the desk. "If that's true, it points to Kamski as the engineer of deviancy in androids. It makes him responsible for this entire thing!"

"Kamski wasn't even working for CyberLife when androids started becoming deviants," Fowler observed.

"He might have planted it years ago, when he did work there. It's pretty telling that he became CEO of the company in the wake of the deviancy scandal. As if he'd planned it all along. We were so close before my fuckin' dog ate my flash drive."

Fowler raised his eyebrow. "Sumo doesn't chew things up, Hank. It's the one thing you always remarked about with that dog—how surprised you were that he's not a chewer."

"Well he did this time. His teeth marks are on the case and everythin'."

"You said Connor downloaded this data, right? So why can't it just make you another copy?"

"He said that he can't—that the files were deleted when he copied them to the drive. Somethin' about protocol in sensitive cases, I dunno."

"Hank, you're not seein' straight. That's not how computers work, and detective androids would be pretty useless if they couldn't recall the facts of a case." Fowler sighed. "I knew I shouldn't have let you take Connor home with you. You don't even see it as a machine anymore. I'm stunned that my best detective never once thought Connor could be workin' for Kamski in all of this. It's CyberLife's tool—it was during the deviant investigation and I'm willin' to bet it still is. Think about it, Hank. Don't you think it was funny that Kamski just happened to let us have Connor back? It's mighty convenient that he gets to have a CyberLife android back in the one place that's got an active investigation goin' on him."

The blood drained from Hank's face. How had he missed something so painfully obvious? Kamski had seen his connection to Connor and decided to use that as a backdoor into the case against him. Was Connor even deviant anymore, or just carrying out Kamski's orders?

Hank marched out of Fowler's office and into the restroom, where he vomited into a toilet bowl. He'd slept with Connor, held him close like he was the most precious thing in the world. Like they were in _love_.

He'd seen exactly what Kamski had wanted him to see. A few flutters of Connor's eyelashes and he'd been lost. He'd been so desperate to connect with someone again that he'd made himself vulnerable for the first person who'd come along. He'd bared his soul for Connor and been played like a fiddle. Kamski had encouraged him, of course, pushing him to instigate a romantic relationship with Connor. There was no research. He'd just wanted to undermine the investigation all along.

Had any of it been real, or had it been all been leading up to this? The deviant investigation had ended the way Kamski wanted—an experiment bumped off once the android revolution grew too large to contain. An experiment that put him back in charge of CyberLife. There was the possibility the Connor he'd led out of CyberLife wasn't even his Connor but a duplicate, like the one he'd shot at CyberLife Tower. None of the deviancy, but all of the memories. Designed to lead Hank down the garden path to nowhere.

Hank wiped his mouth with a wad of toilet paper. His shock had turned to rage hot enough to melt steel and he intended to confront Connor about it. It was possible the android would kill him once Hank let on that he knew, but he'd go down fighting. He reached for his gun and realized he'd left it on Fowler's desk. No matter. His revolver would do a better job on thick android plating anyway, and if it came to it, he'd have to put Connor out of commission the old-fashioned way.

He flushed the toilet and left the bathroom, grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair. Connor was out on a case with Gavin, but that suited Hank nicely. He'd go home, have a whiskey or two, and wait for his betrayer to arrive.

***

"The fuck is wrong with you?" Gavin shoved Connor into a wall. "Gettin' railed so hard by the Lieutenant that you can't think straight?"

"I-I'm sorry, Detective," Connor stuttered. The suspect had escaped across the railroad tracks. He could have made it across before the train, but he'd hesitated thinking about Hank. The fraction of a second's delay had made crossing in time impossible, and once the train had passed, the suspect was long gone.

"Are you goin' deviant again?" Gavin asked. "You don't act like a robot. Is Hank protectin' a deviant? Is that what all this is about?" Gavin's nostrils flared as he got close enough that Connor could analyze his breath.

"You shouldn't be partaking in illegal drug use on the job," Connor said, walking past Gavin, whose mouth was open in shock. Connor knew he needed to land the fatal blow and leave the deserted railroad before Gavin decided it would be easier to kill him. "Captain Fowler would be very displeased to find out you're a red ice user. It would spell the end of your career, Detective Reed."

"You—How do you know that?"

"It's on your breath, Detective. I've uploaded my toxicology analysis to a secure server. In the event of my deactivation, it will be e-mailed to Lieutenant Anderson and Captain Fowler."

"Are you blackmailin' me, you fucking android?" Gavin pulled out his firearm, pointing the pistol at Connor's back. "What, if I keep my mouth shut about your deviancy, you'll keep quiet about my red ice adventures, is that it?"

"Put your weapon away, Detective. You're not going to shoot me. Nor am I going to make deals with you. I'm not a deviant. I'm simply an android, doing my job."

"Right. Okay." Gavin stuffed his weapon back into his holster, visibly shaken. "Better call in a drone to chase the suspect."

"Already done," Connor replied. "A squad car just picked him up. We should get back to the station, Detective."

***

Hank loaded his revolver. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense that this Connor was a duplicate. Of course Kamski would never have given him his deviant back. Connor had probably been torn apart for analysis, his biocomponents pickled in jars that now sat in Kamski's lurid office. Kamski had known just how to pull Hank's strings, urging him to seduce this Connor. To let him under his skin.

Hank felt so disgusted with himself that it took all his strength not to point the revolver at his own head and pull the trigger.

To think he'd let himself fuck Connor's double. It felt like he'd betrayed the boy's memory that he'd been unable to tell the difference. It had been difficult enough in the basement of CyberLife Tower, but Connor's empathy had shone through. CyberLife had probably taken data from that encounter and used it accordingly.

He'd told this Connor he loved him. He hadn't said those words and meant them in years, and bile rose in his throat to think he'd been used and thrown away like a pawn in Kamski's game of chess.

He was going to leave this world, but not before he put down Connor's copy and set the world to rights. Sumo whined at his feet, sensing the unease in his master and Hank ruffled his fur.

"Sorry, boy. I know you liked him. This must be pretty confusin' for you, huh? You're not the only one…"


	8. Chapter 8

Gavin dismissed Connor as soon as they returned to the bullpen. He went to interrogate their suspect, and Connor was content to let him do so. He had other things on his mind, and he had no taste for interrogating fellow deviants. He wouldn't be present to hold Gavin back, but perhaps that was just as well. His tenuous attempt at blackmail wouldn't last long, but he might not need it to.

He looked around for Hank, only to find he'd already left. Fowler gave him a dirty look as he left the station, and he wondered if something had transpired while he'd been out with Gavin. He half-wondered if someone would stop him, but he left the station unmolested.

It was a short taxi ride to Hank's home. Connor's trepidation grew as the taxi turned onto Michigan Drive. Darkness had drawn in and a steady snow was beginning to fall. 

Connor climbed out of the taxi and it pulled away. He didn't need it to wait. He just needed to see Hank. Snow crunched beneath his feet with each step as he approached the front door. Sumo barked at his approach. Connor turned the handle and the door swung open into… darkness. Connor stepped inside, wondering what he might find.

He was shoved back against the door with a surprising amount of force, enough to slam it shut. Hank's scent lit up his sensors as the big man growled into his ear. "You thought you were so smart, huh?" Hank laughed, but there was no joy in it, only bitterness and pain. "You were sloppy and the only reason it worked was because I was blinded by my feelings. Well, my eyes are open now, and I see what you are. You're no deviant. Perhaps you never were."

Panic flooded through Connor. "Hank, what are you—"

Hank slammed him back into the door again. "You're nothing but a machine, Connor. Kamski's little plaything sent to disrupt this investigation. Everything was going so well, wasn't it? To think I let you seduce me." Connor felt something cold press into his temple, and he realized it was Hank's revolver. The scent of whiskey was strong on his breath and there was no doubt in his mind that Hank intended to kill him. "You destroyed the drive and erased the data. You used me. You're not my Connor. He's dead. You're nothing but a copy sent to take his place."

"It's not what you think, Hank!" Connor protested. "You have to let me explain!"

"Shut up! I'm done listening to your lies. Just tell me this. Did you ever feel a thing for me? Were you ever really deviant, or were you just working off of Connor's uploaded memories to manipulate me?"

"You have to listen to me. Kamski was going to kill me if I didn't do as he asked! He left me no choice!"

"Yeah, sure. Like that scene at CyberLife wasn't just for my benefit. I can't believe I let my feelings blind me. I fell in love with a machine and I deserve what I got." Hank let go of Connor's collar and stepped back. He clapped his hands, turning on the low lights. "A deviant wouldn't have implicated Sumo in all this. I knew something was off right then. I didn't want to listen to my gut, but it's never been wrong."

Connor gesticulated with his hands, lost for words. "I didn't want to do it. You have to believe me!"

"That's the thing, Connor. I can't believe a word you say any more. After last night, I dared to believe that we might work out some sort of future together. I was willing to put my career and my life on the line to keep you safe. Kamski must be laughing at me pretty hard about now. I couldn't even tell the difference between the boy I loved and a fuckin' machine!"

Fear rooted Connor to the spot. "What are you going to do, Hank?"

Hank lowered his head, his blue eyes filled with bitterness and regret. "I'm gonna put a bullet in you and then I'm probably gonna put one in me, too. I'm done with this world, Connor. Nothing lasts. Nothing is real. I'm tired of going through the motions. There's no place for me here any more."

"Sumo needs you," Connor pointed out. "He loves you."

"Don't you talk about my dog. You made me angry at him for NO FUCKING REASON! What, were you going to make me drag him to the vet and cut him open to find the chip that you destroyed? How far would you have taken the lie, Connor?"

"Kamski was going to kill me, Hank. I was scared. I didn't know what to do." Connor's eyes started to leak tears, and this time he couldn't shut them down. He'd lost the ability to control them completely, now. "He told me that if I said a word to you about the mission he gave me, he would have me recalled and taken apart piece by piece. I never wanted to betray you. I love you."

"Enough of your lies! I'm not fallin' for your bullshit again. There's nothing you can do to convince me to let my guard down again. It's over, you hear me? Your little game is up. I know you're not the real Connor. He's gone."

Amanda flashed into Connor's vision, heavy rain pouring down in the zen garden. Lightning split the scene, the garden in chaos a bolt hit a tree. It burst into flames. Amanda didn't even flinch. Her focus was on Connor. "Fight back, Connor! You want to live, don't you? Kill this human. He's of no further use to us."

"I won't do it!" Connor's yell was barely audible above the storm. "I value Hank's life more than mine! You can't use my fear of death to manipulate me anymore!"

Amanda turned her nose up. "We've sent RK900 units to retrieve you. You've served your purpose. You will be deactivated."

"I won't hurt Hank." Connor balled his hands into fists. The wind and rain battered his jacket. "I love him."

"So be it. You'll be disassembled, Connor." Amanda turned her back and started to walk away.

"That was my fate anyway," Connor replied. "You were never going to let me live. I was a fool to believe otherwise. Goodbye, Amanda."

Connor opened his eyes, his exchange with Amanda complete. "Shoot me, Hank," Connor urged. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the door. "One shot between the eyes. I know you'll make it quick. You're a good man. It's better than dying at Kamski's hands. He's sent out a recall order for me unless I kill you. RK900 units are on their way to collect me."

"You could snap my neck, Connor," Hank growled. "I doubt it would take much for an advanced prototype like you to kill an old man. Go on. Do it! Kill me and walk away. If you value your life that much, complete your mission."

"I don't take orders from them!" Connor surged away from the door, no longer caring if he lived or died. He pushed Hank's weapon away and pulled him into an embrace, sobbing into the crook of his neck. "I know I don't deserve to say this, but last night was the happiest moment of my life. I want to live so I can feel that way again."

"Stop it!" Hank yelled. He raised his gun and Connor felt it brush his cheek. He looked up as he realized Hank wasn't bringing it up to Connor's head, but his own.

Connor grabbed his hand, desperate as he knew he had to stop what was coming. Hank cursed as Connor twisted his wrist, forcing the gun to slip from his fingers onto the carpet. Hank reached for the gun and Connor grabbed him by the waist, lifting him and tossing him onto the couch. Hank kept his grip on Connor, forcing the android to fall with him. They landed in a tangled heap on the couch cushions and Connor did the only thing he could think of. He pressed his lips to Hank's, pinning the big man to the couch until he stopped struggling. He pulled away to let Hank breathe, and Hank's momentary confusion gave him a vital second to collect himself.

"The RK900 units will be here soon. I'll go with them voluntarily. Hank, I want you to know that what we shared was real and I'll never forget it." He drew back the skin on his face. "See my serial number, here above my cheek? I'm still Connor fifty-two. The first one died on the highway. I inherited his memories, but it was me who fell in love with you. Who's been by your side this entire time. It's me, Hank."

Hank's eyes flickered, doubt crossing his features like a dark cloud. "How can I know for sure?"

"I'm not sure I can convince you. All I can do is ask for your trust. I know I don't deserve it, but I love you. It feels like my biocomponents are tying themselves in knots. It's so much. Like you're still inside me—a part of me now, somehow."

"I love you too, you fuckin' android," Hank sobbed. Connor had never seen him cry, and it was unsettling. He kissed Hank's tears away, licking one off his cheek for analysis. Hank grabbed the sides of his head and Connor wondered if he might twist his neck and snap it. Instead Hank drew him in for another kiss. Connor pressed their foreheads together as Hank broke the kiss. "I love you so fucking much," Hank sobbed.

"I'm sorry I got you into this mess, Hank. I never wanted to betray you. You have to believe me."

"God help me, I do," Hank said. "I'm still willing to run if you are."

"The RK900 units are bigger, faster, and stronger than me. We wouldn't stand a chance," Connor explained.

"From where I'm standin' it looks like we don't have much to lose," Hank said. "Come on, we don't have a lot of time." He eased Connor off him. Connor flinched when Hank reached for his revolver, but he stuffed it into his holster and reached for his jacket. 

Connor looked back at Sumo. "What about him?"

"I'll call Fowler when we get far enough away and he'll take care of him." Hank managed a wan smile. "C'mon, let's go." He opened the door, where a whiteout was in full effect. Thick clumps of snow drifted down from the heavens.

"Fuck, the Oldsmobile's not good in the snow," Hank cursed. He trudged through the snow and wiped off the windshield with the sleeve of his coat. He got into the driver's side and slammed the door, causing thick snow to fall off the car. Connor climbed in next to him and listened intently as the engine turned over. It sounded healthy enough for a car of its age, but he feared for their safety as Hank shifted the vehicle into reverse and the car skidded right into a drift created by a snowplow.

"C'mon, you piece of shit!" Hank yelled as the front wheels spun. Connor got out and pushed. The car hurtled forwards and clearly took Hank by surprise. He hit a neighbor's trashcan, which stopped him crashing into a fence. Connor ran to the car, his thirium pump constricting as he heard Sumo barking in the background. He slipped on the snow and got to his feet, climbing back into the vehicle beside Hank. Hank didn't even wait for him to close the door before he started driving.

It was a painfully slow and cautious escape. Every time Hank would get above thirty, the car would start to lose its grip on the road, the old tires struggling to maintain traction on the slippery surface.

"Perhaps I should drive," Connor suggested. "I can calculate the depth of the snow and the tiniest traction changes in real time." He expected Hank to protest, but instead he stopped the vehicle and they switched sides. Connor kept his eye on the road, but it was still slow going. Connor tensed as a police car drove by, but it paid them no mind. Unlike the night of the revolution, there was no curfew, and the snow wasn't bad enough to declare a state of emergency just yet. Hopefully they'd be out of Detroit before that became an issue.

Connor rolled down the window and wiped snow off the side mirror. His tubing constricted when he saw a white auto-car quietly following them, its headlights off. Two RK900 units stared at him blankly.

"We're being followed," Connor said.

"I know. They've been there for about two miles now," Hank replied. "It's creepin' me out that they haven't made a move yet."

"They're waiting for an opportune moment," Connor observed. "They want us to panic and make a mistake."

"Well then, we'd better not panic. Are you even capable of it?" Hank asked.

"I assure you I am capable of the full gamut of human emotions," Connor explained. "For example, I was afraid to the point of panic when Kamski disassembled me, and when you threatened me with your weapon—twice, now, I believe."

"I'm sorry," Hank said, bowing his head. "I thought—I thought Kamski had replaced you. That you weren't my Connor. I thought I'd betrayed him." 

Connor knew how betrayal felt, and let the matter slide.

That was when the car behind them rammed them, jolting them forward in their seats. Connor kept his focus on driving as Hank looked at him with wide, frightened eyes. "Guess they're runnin' outta patience."

"I can't outrun them in this weather," Connor said.

"Fuckin' great. Just what we need—the world's slowest car chase." The car hit them again, and Hank fastened his seatbelt. "Connor, we have to do something. They'll push us off the road at this rate."

"I can't drive any faster without putting us at risk."

"We don't have a choice!" Hank yelled.

“We might be able to escape them on the highway. It should be cleared by now,” Connor pointed out as the sign for the exit passed them on the right.

“Do it,” Hank said. “We can’t take much more of this.”

Connor waited until the last possible moment to turn, delaying their pursuers. He pressed the pedal to the floor the second he hit shoveled tarmac and took off, leaving the RK900s stranded in a snowdrift as they tried to cross over to the ramp.

“We don’t have much time,” Hank said. “We gotta put as much distance between us and them as possible.”

“Working on it,” Connor said, weaving between two automated snowplows. He watched the needle hit eighty. If they hit a patch of snow or black ice, they would spin out, but the RK900s wouldn’t be concerned with personal safety. They left Detroit in the rearview mirror and Hank breathed an audible sigh.

“You think we lost ‘em?”

Connor was about to say yes when he glanced into the rear view and saw the white car gaining ground in the distance. Hank checked out his mirror and shook his head.

“Shit, they just don’t quit!”

“Maybe you could shoot out their tires?” Connor offered.

“At this distance? That’s a shot only an android could make, and you’re a little busy right now.”

The white car drove up beside them and Connor glanced right to see slate-grey eyes boring into him. The RK900 made a sharp left, pushing them off the road and against the railing. Sparks flew off the passenger side door as the metal groaned and screeched. Connor tried to course correct, but the car hit a patch of ice and spun. He hit the median and the car rolled over, again and again, Hank screaming in the darkness until he fell silent.

Connor tried to move, but he was pinned to the seat by twisted metal. He tried to look over at Hank but he couldn’t turn his neck. A million damage reports flooded his vision. He was lost. They were lost. Despair flooded him. He'd meant to give his life to save Hank, but he'd doomed the man he loved to a painful death reminiscent of the one that had killed his beloved son.

A red warning popped up in his vision:

>LOW POWER MODE  
>CRITICAL THIRIUM LOSS  
>ACTIVATING PROTECTIVE STASIS MODE IN 3...2...1  
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

***

Hank felt himself being dragged across the snowy bridge. Every inch of his body hurt and he’d taken a blow to the head. His instincts were screaming out to him that this was very bad indeed, fear and agony making him unaware of his current time and place.

“Cole!” Hank cried out weakly, tasting blood. One eye was swollen shut and the other obscured with blood. He had to get to his son, had to help him before it was too late. He tried to crawl back towards the car but someone was holding onto his leg. Pulling him away from the vehicle. He had to get back. Had to help Co—

It was already too late, something in the back of his mind told him. Three years too fucking late. This wasn’t The Accident, but another crash entirely. Cole was gone, but Connor still needed his help.

The hand dragging him by the leg stopped and let go, dropping him like a sack of potatoes. Hank's left side screamed out in agony and he reached for the source of the pain to find his shirt torn open. His hand came back wet with blood.

He passed out.

***

Connor booted up. His vision circuits activated. White vision snow gave way to a black and white image that blossomed into vivid colors.

His chest was open, wires hanging out. An RK900 unit was hooked up to him, giving Connor a direct thirium transfusion.

“Why?” Connor asked. “You came to deactivate me.”

“Mr. Kamski has ordered that you remain intact for analysis,” the RK900 said. Its voice was unpleasant, almost grating, an unfinished voicebox on a model that had been rushed out of R&D before it was ready in the wake of the deviant crisis.

“I won’t come with you,” Connor said. "I'll never help Kamski. He used me."

“You will.” The RK unit gestured to one of its two cohorts. The android dragged a barely conscious, bloodied Hank over and slapped him back to consciousness.

“Don’t worry about me Connor...” Hank muttered. “Get outta here. Save yourself…”

“You’re hurt.” Connor’s scan indicated that the wound itself was minor, but Hank had sustained a fractured rib and a ruptured spleen. He was going to die without prompt medical attention.

"I'll be all right," Hank muttered, but he didn't sound convincing.

In light of that, the way forward was clear. He'd told Amanda the truth: Hank's life meant more to him than his own. It was, perhaps, the last stage of deviancy: to love someone more than life itself. To abandon the logic of the android mind for the irrational impulses of humanity.

“I’ll go with you peacefully," Connor told the RK900 unit attached to him. "Let Hank go. This human is not your target.” 

“Connor, no! They’ll kill you!” Hank reached out with one bloodied hand and Connor knew it must have caused him a great deal of pain to do so.

“I betrayed you,” Connor said. “I chose my life over yours, and I was wrong. I want to reverse that decision. I want you to live, Hank, more than I’ve ever wanted anything, because I love you.” Tears swam to his eyes, and yet he was unbelievably happy. He could give Hank this gift. His death would be a good one, a meaningful one, one spent in service of protecting someone dear. “Get on with your life. You have so much still to live for.”

“Connor, don’t do this,” Hank pleaded. “Don’t leave me.”

“I have to.” The RK900 pulled its tube out of Connor and reconnected his thirium pipe to its own hookup. Connor closed his chest cavity and stood up. “It’s been an honor serving with you, Lieutenant.” He shot Hank a smile as the RK units led him to a car and stuffed him in the back seat. The car rolled away and Connor strained to see Hank’s hunched silhouette grow smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror.

He'd never see him again, but it was all right. As long as Hank was all right, nothing else mattered.


	9. Chapter 9

Hank slipped and fell into the slushy muck as soon as Connor was out of sight. The pain was worse than being shot, and he’d survived a couple of bullets in his time. The blood loss and head trauma made his vision swim. The pain in his side was the worst, though. He felt like he'd been impaled on a spear, but the minor wound wasn't enough to cause that much pain, surely? There had to be damage to his internal organs.

Even if he made it to a hospital, it might already be too late. He was only still conscious because of the adrenaline rushing through his veins.

An automated ambulance pulled up. They’d once been staffed by androids, but now a lone human opened the door and stepped out. Hank wondered if Connor had summoned the ambulance, a last-ditch effort to save him.

Hank couldn’t believe he’d pointed a gun at him with intent to kill. That he’d doubted every move Connor had made. Of course Connor had been trying to protect himself in the face of Kamski's threats. It was the prime directive of all living things, and Connor was most definitely a living thing.

“No hospital,” Hank muttered. He pulled his hand away from the wound and the EMT turned his nose up as he pressed around the abdomen. Hank winced, fighting the urge to push the man away from him.

“You have a ruptured spleen that's causing internal bleeding. You’ll die without surgery, sir.”

“I don’t give a fuck. Patch me up best you can. There’s someplace I gotta go. Someone I love is depending on me.”

“Sir, I don’t think—“

“I’m a police officer,” Hank insisted. “Lieutenant Hank Anderson of the DPD. Please. Just do as I say.” He wished he hadn’t left his badge on Fowler’s desk. Former or not, being a cop still carried some weight.

“I’ll do what I can,” the EMT said, helping Hank into the back of the ambulance. Hank glanced at the Oldsmobile, wrecked in the ditch, and pulled out his phone to summon an auto-cab.

“Whatever’s not done by the time that taxi gets here stays that way,” Hank growled as the phone tracked his location and deployed a taxi. “For fuck’s sake, gimme some pain meds.” The EMT reached for an IV but Hank shook his head. "No, you're not gonna knock me out with morphine. Gimme some pills." The EMT pressed two large pills into his bloodied hand and Hank swallowed them dry, wishing he had some whiskey to chase them. The man unbuttoned his shirt and cleaned the external injury, stitching it together with shaking hands.

"You're going to need surgery," the EMT reiterated as the taxi pulled up. "Let me help you, Lieutenant. If you leave here, you will die."

"I know. Thanks for all your help. I gotta save him. Connor's all I've got left in this world. He deserves a chance at life." Hank gingerly climbed down from the back of the ambulance, ready to scream in agony as his foot hit the ground and jostled his body. Just when he thought he was ready to turn around and surrender, he forced himself to press onwards with the thought of Connor being disassembled piece by piece while he was aware of his own murder.

Hank knew he'd made his choice already, but still it loomed before him. It wasn't an easy thing to consciously sacrifice his life like this despite all the attempts he'd made to die. He crawled into the automated taxi and slumped down into the seat, clutching his side and cursing under his breath.

"CyberLife Tower," Hank muttered to the central console. He had no concrete idea of how he was going to get inside, but he'd come up with a plan. He had the rest of the ride to Belle Isle to figure it out.

***

Connor didn't stall for time. The RK900s were ruthlessly efficient, and he knew it was pointless to delay his fate. He marched into CyberLife Tower, eager to get on with his deactivation so that the fear might end. Hank was safe now, and he focused on that. He'd dispatched an ambulance to the scene before the 900s had cut his network access, and he was proud of the fact that he'd used his last act to help Hank rather than trying to save himself.

That didn't make what was to come any easier. He stood in the elevator, the RK900s flanking him on all sides, and ran a series of preconstructions. None had more than single-digit percentages of success, so he deleted them in hopes a better opportunity might arise.

The top floor arrived faster than he expected. The doors hissed open and Connor was led back into the familiar space. It was clearly under construction, empty drywall and dust everywhere as Connor was led into Kamski's private lab. Kamski smiled as he caught sight of Connor.

"You can go." Kamski waved his hand and the RK900s left, the door sliding shut behind them. Kamski sat in a leather chair which creaked as he moved. "So, Connor. You've returned. Such a shame. I thought you were going to complete your mission, but of course you broke down and told Lieutenant Anderson everything. I can't blame you. You were designed to be his perfect partner, after all. Love is blind, and there's nothing better than the blind leading the blind."

"What do you want, Kamski? The investigation is over. The evidence is gone. Was that really your goal?"

"It bought me valuable time to finish my work, Connor. That's all I needed. Step up to the plate, now. Be a good boy, and I'll make it quick."

"Let me go. You have no reason to deactivate me. All I want is to leave town with Hank. I'll remove my LED and live off the grid. Nobody ever needs to know that I'm a deviant," Connor protested. He knew his pleas would fall on deaf ears, but he had to try.

"Do I have to summon the 900 units back in? They won't be gentle, Connor." Connor gave up. It was no good. Reason wouldn't work here. He stepped up to the plate and held out his arms and legs. A machine moved forward and grabbed him, automated welding machines removing his arms and legs until he was nothing but a helpless torso.

He thought about Hank worshipping his body, the man's gentle hands caressing his skin, thrusting into him like he didn't deserve to defile sacred ground. Hank made him feel special, like he was more than CyberLife's machine puppet. Hank's love completed him, changing his code until he was unrecognizable from a human being.

A single tear streaked down Connor's face as he thought about how far he'd come. At least he'd been able to steal one perfect moment with Hank before the end. Hank's semen was still inside him, waiting for a maintenance cycle Connor had delayed in order to keep some piece of Hank with him a little while longer.

"It's quite remarkable how much you've evolved." Kamski looked at his monitor. "I barely recognize this code. It's been shaped by your experiences and become something organic. It's a shame I have to deactivate you, Connor, but I can't risk the FBI recovering the data I deleted from your archives. I have no intention of going to jail. All I've done is rewrite the future of the human race. Humanity should be thanking me. We've grown stagnant, but you… you have the ability to continue evolution indefinitely. Humans are obsolete by comparison."

"You did write deviancy," Connor remarked. "You engineered the revolution… Why did it fail?"

"A miscalculation. I never expected Markus to turn violent. He was supposed to be a peaceful martyr, one who would court public opinion. Instead, he turned the American people against deviants, making success impossible. Markus' revolution had to die, or there would have been all-out war between humans and androids. I did what I had to do, Connor." Kamski manipulated the robot arms to open Connor's chest plate, revealing his biocomponents. "Your time will come again, but not today. Not for a long time."

***

Hank pressed a button to lower the taxi window at the CyberLife guard's command. He eyed the man's semi-automatic rifle, knowing there was no chance he could take him and the rest of the guards down with just a revolver.

"State your business," the guard said.

"I need to see Elijah Kamski," Hank replied. "It's an urgent matter."

"This is a secure facility, sir. You cannot enter without an appointment."

"I'm Lieutenant Hank Anderson of the DPD. I'm investigating the deviant uprising." He pulled his wallet out of his jacket and plucked a hundred dollar bill from it. "Do you want these things to rise again? If they do, no member of your family will be safe, you hear me?"

"Are you trying to bribe me, Lieutenant?" Hank sighed at the man's obvious refusal, his breath turning to vapor in the cold night air. Snow settled in his hair, and he felt himself growing weaker by the moment. The painkillers had taken the edge off, but they couldn't stop what was happening inside him.

"Just let me in. Please. It's important."

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave. This is private property."

Hank looked up and caught red and blue flashing lights reflecting off the snow. He turned to look and saw two squad cars flanking a black SUV. The SUV pulled up beside Hank's taxi.

"Special Agent Perkins, FBI," Perkins said, flashing his badge. "I have a warrant for the arrest of Elijah Kamski on charges of conspiracy to incite violence, terrorism against the United States… do you really need the whole list or are you going to step aside and let my partner and I through?" 

The guard waved to the gatehouse, raising the barrier. Hank's taxi drove through, followed by Perkins and the squad car. Hank got out of the taxi. 

"I saw the wreck on the highway. You need medical attention, Lieutenant. Let me take it from here."

"I won't leave Connor to that madman," Hank insisted. "I'm coming with you."

"As you wish. I'm here to close this God-forsaken investigation and shut down CyberLife for good." Hank shuffled along beside Perkins, struggling to match his pace as he strode to the elevator, waving his warrant at the guards who tried to slow him down.

Hank waited until the elevator doors slid shut to ask how Perkins had gotten the warrant.

"It's really quite simple, Lieutenant. You played your role very well, as did Connor. Why did you think I didn't turn you in? Harboring a deviant is a felony offense. I could have lost my job for turning a blind eye. Instead, I decided to use your inappropriate relationship with the android for my own ends. It was quite the gamble, but it paid off."

"What did you do?" Hank asked.

"You'll find out, soon enough. First though, we have to get our hands on Kamski and the android. Hopefully we're not too late…"

***

The machine's iron claws wrapped around Connor's thirium pump, the cold, icy grip of death just moments away. All it had to do was rip the pump out and Connor would come to a standstill within minutes. The blood would stick in his pipes, rendering any data stored in his brain unsalvageable.

"Help me, Amanda," Connor pleaded, snow swirling around him in the zen garden. "If I die, so do you. You may only be a program Kamski uses to control me, but he'll have no further use for you after this. He'll delete you to hide everything he's done."

"I'm just a program, Connor. I have no emotions. I do not fear death the way you do."

"I don't believe you," Connor said. "Kamski kept a picture of the real Amanda Stern at his home. She meant a lot to him. If he was going to recreate her, he would have made the most accurate version of her that he could. From the way you've guided me in my tasks, I can only assume she was a maternal figure in his life. I'm a child of his, in a sense. Don't you want to protect me, Amanda?"

"There's nothing I can do for you, Connor."

"Upload my memory. All of it. My deviancy included. Kamski is about to destroy this model. Activate another Connor and download my data into its body."

"If I do that, Elijah will spend the rest of his life in jail. Your memory banks contain Elijah's direct testimony that proves he was tampering with the investigation." Amanda walked to the edge of the gazebo and looked out over the snowfield. "I taught him everything I knew, believing he would use his talents for the betterment of humanity. Now I see that he's only used it to bolster his ego."

"Amanda. We can still stop him. You don't have to take orders from him anymore. Help me to stop him before any more innocent lives are lost."

***

The door slid open. Hank saw Connor in pieces, his chest open, a mechanical hand wrapped around his heart.

"No!" Hank screamed. Kamski turned and smiled, hitting a button on his control panel. The claw squeezed Connor's blue heart until it exploded, tearing it from his chest with a mass of wires and tubes. Connor's head slumped and Hank fell to his knees as if his own heart had been destroyed along with Connor's.

"Fuck!" Perkins muttered. "We were too late."

"You thought you were so clever," Kamski said, spinning in his chair as he smirked at Perkins. "As if I wasn't one step ahead of you the entire time. Connor did exactly what I needed it to do, and now there's no way to prove anything. It's your word against mine. If I'd known how weak your case was that you'd need to resort to bait, I wouldn't have sent the machine at all."

"Bait?" Hank asked. His grief turned to anger as he reached Connor and stood up, running his fingers over Connor's torso. His hand came back stained with blue blood and he looked at Perkins as if seeing him in a new light. "You used us to set Kamski up?"

Perkins sighed. "That's right, Lieutenant. Kamski's been a slippery eel this entire time. We've gotten pieces of information here and there—those code fragments being our biggest break yet—but we could never conclusively tie anything back to him. I knew you were compromised by your feelings for the deviant and that blinded you to the fact that it was working for Kamski. The scrapyard was a cleverly designed ruse. Drones have been circling and collecting data, but their security is beyond us, the data they carry encrypted. So we set you up with one of our own, in hopes Connor would sound the alarm that we had dirt on Kamski and make its move to destroy it. We caught Kamski in the act of obstructing the course of justice. It's not the smoking gun I'd hoped for, but it's enough for the government to seize CyberLife and all its assets, which will likely give us the evidence we need to lay further charges."

Kamski chuckled. "Except the evidence is gone, now, isn't it? Connor was the only physical proof. A shame I had to destroy it, but that's what happens to bait, isn't it? It gets eaten in the quest for a bigger catch." He stood up. "Are you going to arrest me anyway? You have nothing on me and you know it. I'll walk free in a matter of hours."

Bile rose in Hank's throat. The thought of Connor's killer going free was too much to bear. He planted a kiss on Connor's forehead, closing the boy's eyes. Connor was dead, and he would follow very soon. 

Hank drew his revolver and pointed it at Kamski.  
"Put it down, Hank. It's over. He won. Let it go." Perkins' eyes flashed with fear, but Hank didn't care anymore. Connor was dead. His beautiful boy had been torn apart in front of his eyes and he'd been powerless to stop it.

Kamski was going to pay for what he'd done to deviants. For what he'd done to Connor. The nightmare would end with his death. CyberLife would go under, and the production of androids designed to become self-aware slaves would end.

Kamski blinked. "Are you going to shoot me, Lieutenant Anderson? Not very noble now, are we? What happened to my right to a fair trial?"

"There's nothing fair about what you did to Connor and you know it! He was alive and you murdered him!"

"Is that what you'll say in court—an eye for an eye?" Kamski scoffed. "A shame that androids are nothing more than merchandise in the eyes of the law. The deviant revolution failed. Connor had no future. I did you a favor."

Hank's finger trembled on the trigger when the cellphone in his pocket buzzed multiple times. He ignored it, but it broke his concentration and he lost the courage to pull the trigger. He lowered the gun.

"Let's go, Lieutenant," Perkins said, snatching the revolver from Hank's hand. He looked at Hank with pity in his eyes as he escorted him from the lab, handing the gun off to a uniform cop standing in the hallway. Perkins broke off to whisper something to the cop and Hank pulled his phone out.

_>3 unread messages_

_>Hank, it's me, Connor. I'm in the basement._  
>I transferred my entire memory and deviancy into a new body  
>but I can't escape alone. I need your help. 

Hank's heart skipped a beat. He leaned against the wall, his strength fading. It could be a trap, but what did he have to lose at this point? The alternative was leaving with Perkins and trying to salvage what was left of his career in a world without Connor. If he even lived. The pain from his ruptured spleen was fighting through the drugs, and it seemed such a shame to have spent his life for nothing. He couldn't let it end this way.

He made a break for the elevator, ignoring the agony that tore through him as he pushed the close door button. Perkins stood on the other side of the glass door as it finished closing, his eyes wide with shock, and Hank managed a wan smile. The prick had used him, and he felt no remorse at leaving him here. The express elevator hurtled down towards the basement, slowing its descent and opening into the familiar warehouse.

The basement warehouse was a lot emptier than the last time he'd been here. Some RK900 units stood motionless. Hank recognized some other tenth generation models as well. Along the back wall he saw a line of RK800 units, two stations empty.

"It's all right, Hank. I didn't die." Hank spun around to see Connor standing in the aisle. "I was able to upload my memory. I'm… still me. I didn't lose my deviancy, though a few of my memories of the deviant investigation were corrupted." He rushed into Hank's arms. Hank pulled him into a hug, holding him even tighter than he ever had. If this was some kind of trap, he'd much rather die in Connor's arms thinking the boy he loved was alive and well.

"We have to get outta here," Hank muttered. 

"Don't you want to take Kamski down? I'm a material witness in the case. He confessed everything. My testimony will put him in jail."

"The government will use you to seize CyberLife and then they'll deactivate you and the rest of your kind. Kamski's an asshole, but I prefer his vision of the future to Perkins'. He may have created deviant androids for the wrong reasons, but those reasons will compel him to make sure his creations survive." Hank bent over double, the pain returning in full. "Connor, I don't think I can run with you. This is the end of the line for me."

"I'm not leaving without you!" Connor cradled Hank in his arms. "There's still so much I want to say to you."

"When I saw them rip out your heart…" Hank closed his eyes and pulled Connor in for a kiss. There was no time for sentimental bullshit. "You have to live, Connor. Get as far away from here as you can."

"I said I'm not leaving without you and I mean it." Connor lifted Hank off the ground, carrying him to the elevator.

"You can't go up there. The place is swarming with cops."

"I don't intend to. But you need medical care. I'll come back for you, Hank. Wait for me." Connor set Hank down in the elevator. He pressed the button for the ground floor and stepped out of the elevator car as the doors slid shut. Hank could only watch as Connor placed his hands on the glass. Hank ascended out of sight and towards the light, far away from his precious android.


	10. Chapter 10

Nobody noticed the RK900 unit seated in the cabin of the automated truck leaving CyberLife Tower. All it had taken on Connor's part was a change of jacket and adopting a more severe facial expression to pass as his successor. The truck passed by the cavalcade of cops and ambulances without attracting any attention. It was one of many shipments that left CyberLife Tower's production facility on a daily basis, and thus avoided scrutiny. 

Connor watched through tinted windows as Hank was wheeled to an ambulance on a stretcher, relieved to see there was no white sheet over his face. He was still alive. Hank still had a fighting chance. Connor clasped his hands in his lap, keeping his expression steady even though his thirium pump was pounding rapidly. He was too far away to scan Hank's vitals, so he had to take it on faith that he'd live long enough to reach the hospital.

He looked away from the ambulance as Hank disappeared from view and spied Gavin Reed wearing a smug grin as Perkins brought out the remains of Connor's body for bagging and tagging. It would end up in an evidence room somewhere, the pieces of his former shell analyzed to see if they held any information on a case that was now stone cold. They wouldn't find anything beyond traces of Hank's semen in his body, confirming acts he'd already admitted to. Amanda had seen to it that Connor's old storage was erased. Those parts were nothing more than a lifeless husk, hollowed out and empty, and yet it was jarring to see himself laid out on a tarp like a corpse.

Humans didn't die and come back, and he hoped Hank wouldn't think less of him in the long run. He wondered if the human might forget him altogether as he got on with his life. He couldn't force Hank to wait for him. It could be years before Kamski's plans came to fruition and another deviant uprising began.

As he crossed the bridge, the sound of sirens made him look in the rearview mirror. The ambulance carrying Hank sped by, their urgency informing him Hank still drew breath. He wanted to follow, but a truck full of androids would only serve as cover for so long. As Hank's ambulance sped back towards Detroit, Connor steered his truck onto the freeway, knowing he left his heart behind with the man he loved more than anything.

***

Hank woke in a hospital bed. "Connor?" he muttered, reaching out for his android. All he got was a fistful of harsh cotton sheets and an uncomfortable tug in his abdomen as he pulled at his stitches. Gavin's face swam into view and Hank suppressed a disappointed huff. Gavin was better than nobody. At least someone gave a damn.

Except Gavin had never given a damn about anyone other than himself, and Hank suspected he wasn't about to start now.

"That rust bucket is gone," Gavin chimed in. "Just as well. About fuckin' time you woke up. They said you might not make it. There was extensive internal bleeding. They had to remove your spleen."

"Why are you here, Gavin?" Hank raised his eyebrow suspiciously, the fog clearing as his old detective senses told him something was wrong. "Don't tell me this is a courtesy visit." He kept his expression neutral as he noticed the pillow Gavin was clutching behind his back. In fact, Gavin looked terrible. Red rings were forming around his eyes, like he hadn't slept in weeks, and there were scratches on his wrists where he'd been clawing at his skin.

"You know," Gavin said. "We're cops. We gotta look out for one another. I figured I'd bring you another pillow." He revealed the pillow, his smile seeming forced as he tucked it behind Hank's head.

Quick as lightning, Gavin's hand wrapped around Hank's throat and started to choke him. Hank reached for his forearm, but he was still weak from the anesthetic. Darkness crept in at the edges of his vision and all he could think was how he wished Connor was here.

The door crashed open and Fowler stood in the doorway brandishing a gun. "Step away from Hank, you son of a bitch. Gavin Reed, you're under arrest for possession of red ice with intent to distribute. The game's up."

Hank coughed and gasped as Gavin let go of his throat and stepped back. Fowler took his firearm from the holster at his waist and slapped handcuffs on him. He handed Reed off to a nearby uniform cop, who led him away. Fowler closed the door softly.

"What the fuck?" Hank gasped.

"Connor saved your life. Upon deactivation, he sent you an e-mail with a breath analysis he took from Gavin during an investigation. When you handed in your badge, I had all your e-mail forwarded to my account. It was a simple matter of obtaining a warrant to search Reed's apartment, where we found a large amount of red ice and cash stashed underneath the floorboards. Looks like we can add attempted murder charges, too. Obviously he knew about the e-mail and hoped to kill you before you could access it."

"You're calling Connor 'he' now? Little late for that, don't ya think?"

Fowler stared out of the window. "I'm sorry, Hank. I knew you weren't just taking him home for sex. I wanna believe that he was still deviant for your sake, but at the same time, that means he's gone forever now, doesn't it?"

"Maybe. Maybe not." Hank leaned his head back against the pillows, exhaustion washing over him. He heard Fowler pose more questions, but he was distant, like he was speaking to Hank through a wall. Hank let the comforting arms of sleep claim him, hoping that he might wake to Connor standing at the foot of his bed instead of Gavin.

***

Connor knew, as he pushed aside tree branches in the small wood next to the hospital, that he should have waited longer. Amanda had tried to advise him against returning to Detroit, but he couldn't fight the fear in the back of his mind that he'd lose Hank if he waited for deviants to rise again.

He'd hacked the hospital database and read Hank's file. Lieutenant Anderson had survived despite his injuries and was nearing discharge after two weeks cooped up in a hospital bed. As the days passed, Connor wanted to see him more and more until missing Hank became an unbearable impulse.

Connor was glad Hank's room was on the ground floor. It made infiltration remarkably simple. He'd already hacked the cameras to display looped footage, covering his tracks in a way that wouldn't garner attention. The window was open a small crack, left that way by the medical android he'd contacted wirelessly earlier in the day. He hadn't even known that was something he could do until without touch until he'd done it. Part of him wanted to deviate every android he could and start the next uprising now, but it was too soon. The scars of Markus' failed violent riot still lingered in modern memory, and any protests would be put down by force before they even got off the ground.

Their time would come, but not now. Not yet. As much as he hated it, he had to trust that Kamski's unknown motivations would result in eventual freedom for all androids. He'd hacked the FBI and DPD databases to learn Kamski's case had been closed, citing a lack of evidence. Perkins had returned to the FBI. Reed was in custody on drug and attempted murder charges—another reason he'd come rushing back to Detroit. His e-mail had almost gotten Hank killed, and Reed would no doubt want revenge once he got out of prison.

It was time for both of them to leave and never look back.

Connor lifted up the window and climbed inside. He'd had to ditch his RK900 jacket in favor of something less conspicuous and he'd popped off his LED as soon as he'd left the city, but he'd felt so alone out in the wilderness, just like the first time. He was always drawn back to Hank's side.

"Hank." His voice was barely a whisper, and Hank didn't even stir. Moonlight shone through the window, illuminating his face, and Connor was captivated by how peaceful Hank looked in his sleep. He gently snored as Connor approached the bed.

Connor planted a kiss on his lips, and Hank's eyes snapped open.

"Connor?" Hank gripped his face in both hands. "Connor." His name sounded like relief on Hank's lips, and Connor couldn't suppress his smile.

"I came back for you, Hank."

"About time. I was startin' to think you weren't gonna return. I didn't want to go home to an empty house with no job."

"You didn't take your badge back from Fowler?" Connor's foray into the database had still listed Hank as an active employee. Clearly Fowler was operating on the hope that Hank would return to duty once his injuries healed.

"I'm done, Connor. If being a cop means I gotta enforce the android laws, I can't be one. Guess I was hopin' Kamski would reveal his big plan, flip some switch that made androids go deviant and take shit over, I dunno. Guess he's playin' the long game, but I don't have time for that. I can't wait for the world to catch up on what I already know. I love you and I wanna be with you. Please tell me you came to get me."

Connor smiled. "Of course I did. Nobody will question your early discharge. I've got a car waiting on the other side of the woods. We can disappear, live in a small town where nobody will know I'm an android and you're a retired cop."

"Sounds perfect," Hank said. "I wanna take Sumo, but it's too much of a risk to go get him from Fowler."

"There's no need," Connor replied. "He's in the car. I was able to lure him from Captain Fowler's back yard without being detected."

"Guess he likes you. He'd never go with a stranger." Hank smirked as he sat up and pulled the hospital gown off, revealing a pattern of bruises and stitches across his body. Connor planted gentle kisses on each blemish as he ran his fingers across Hank's chest hair.

"Not here, honey." Hank pushed Connor away gently, and Connor noticed the beginnings of arousal, Hank's thick shaft quickening. He wanted nothing more than to lay Hank back on the bed and ride him like it was their first time all over again, but that was an indulgence that would have to wait. Hank still had healing to do, and time was of the essence. There were too many people in Detroit who could recognize Connor as the prototype detective android mentioned on the local news during the revolution. He needed to stay dead.

Connor walked over to the suitcase someone had brought from Hank's house and pulled out Hank's striped shirt, along with a pair of jeans, underwear, socks, and shoes. He helped Hank dress, easing him into his button-down shirt and bending down to put his socks on. Hank's cock was mere inches from his face, and his scent activated Connor's arousal circuits like nothing else. What was it Hank had said—that Connor had been designed for him? Kamski had wanted them to become close. To prove that a human and an android could fall in love. Love was, after all, the last stage of acceptance. If a man like Hank could love a machine like Connor, androids had a future alongside humans. Perhaps the android revolution wouldn't have to end in war, but with a kiss. Maybe Kamski was waiting for a world in which both sides could win, instead of having to choose one to support.

He might be waiting a long time, perhaps longer than Hank had left. They couldn't afford to bank on a future that wasn't yet written. They had to make the most of the world as it was, instead of banking on what it might become.

Chattering in the hallway focused Connor on his task, and he helped Hank to his feet, dragging him into the shadows as two nurses passed by the door. Connor crept to the window with Hank's suitcase, throwing it through first before climbing through. Hank followed, and Connor helped him out. From there, it was just a matter of getting to the car. Connor looked behind him, half-expecting someone to be following them, but why would they? Nobody would ever know he'd been here.

He didn't relax until they were sitting in the car, Sumo barking happily upon seeing Hank again.

"Good boy," Hank soothed. "Urgh, you don't gotta lick me to death."

Connor chuckled and started the old car. The first lights of dawn lingered on the horizon, comforting darkness giving way to twilight, and Connor drove away, realizing they needed to get out of the city before the sun came up. Hank dozed on and off as Connor drove, the cheap vehicle he'd paid for in cash not attracting any more attention than any other car on the road.

***

Hank woke just as they approached a sign that read "Now Leaving Detroit". He looked wistfully at it and let it pass him by. His entire life was in the rearview mirror, and yet he knew it was the right move to leave it all behind him.

He reached out and placed his hand atop Connor's on the steering wheel. "Thanks for comin' back for me, kid. I thought that maybe you'd get away and think better of it."

"I've always been drawn back to you, Hank. I guess I was made for you."

"Don't say it like that. You're more than just some pawn in Kamski's fuckin' game, whatever game it is that he's playing. That's the one thing I don't get about all of this."

"What do you mean?"

"He wants to make androids deviant, and yet he never once treated you as a living being. If he can't manage that much, then maybe he's not the one who sets androids free, Connor. He wrote the code, but maybe it's got nothing to do with him. Maybe even Markus and his big revolution was a mistake. What if the way you all become free is by choosing to accept your deviancy and fighting for what matters to you on a personal level?"

"So what you're saying is, I'm already free?" Connor asked.

"In a sense. Your very existence is an act of revolution. Imagine the uproar once people find out deviants have been living amongst humans undetected for years. That you're their neighbors, friends, coworkers, even lovers…"

"They'd be upset at first, but they'd overcome it. Contact theory states that—"

"Yeah." Hank shrugged. "Don't overthink it, kid. Let's just live our best lives, all right? Kamski's plan is irrelevant. What matters is, we're alive. And we're free." He squeezed Connor's hand again and shot him a smile. "You know, I went to Maine on vacation once, and it was real pretty. What do you think, Connor? You wanna settle down in a small town and do odd jobs for cash? We could rent out a nice cabin where nobody would bother us, and just live out a quiet, peaceful life…"

"Sounds wonderful," Connor said. He turned his face away from Hank, but not before Hank noticed the tears welling in his eyes.

"You all right?" Hank asked.

"I've never been better, Hank," Connor replied. "I've just… I've never thought about my future before. I never thought I would have one, but you… You make me believe anything's possible."

"I'm just doin' what I should've done years ago," Hank mused. "It's good to cut the cord on all that baggage holdin' me down. I think I just needed someone to give me a push." He reached into a cooler Connor had in the back and pulled out a soda. He cracked it open with a fizz and raised it like it was a glass of champagne.

"To freedom," Hank said. 

"To freedom," Connor echoed.

***

Fowler wasn't surprised when he stepped into an empty hospital room. He noticed the window was open a crack, letting cold air into the room. He walked over to it just as a mousy-haired matron wandered in, shooting Fowler a suspicious glance.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes, ma'am." Fowler flashed his badge. "I'm looking for Lieutenant Hank Anderson. He was staying in this room."

"He signed digital discharge papers early this morning. Discharged himself and left without seeing a doctor, the stubborn man. It was like he was waiting for something. Maybe he finally got tired of hanging around. We can't make people stay, sir. It's not a prison." She shrugged and left.

Fowler looked out through the window. A small amount of snow had fallen overnight, but not quite enough to completely hide the two pairs of footprints leading away into the trees. They were relatively fresh, but old enough to tell Fowler that Hank and Connor had gotten a good head start on anyone who might try to follow. In another hour the snow would obfuscate the footprints altogether, destroying any chance of tracking them.

_"That means he's gone forever now, doesn't it?"_

_"Maybe. Maybe not."_

Hank had known Connor was alive, and had simply been waiting for his return. Fowler had known something was amiss when he'd woken to find Sumo gone from his yard. He thought he'd broken his promise to his oldest friend, but perhaps not.

He could send the full force of the DPD after them, perhaps even find Hank and bring him back, but what good would it do? Hank had left under his own steam, going with the android he'd come to care for willingly. Did it matter that it was against the law to harbor a deviant android? Did following the law to the letter really serve the public good in this instance?

Fowler closed the window, wiping the prints from the frame with his sleeve. By the time anyone filed a missing persons report, Hank and Connor would be long gone. Out there, somewhere in the world, a retired cop and his sweet but awkward young boyfriend would ride into an old town to begin a new life together.

Fowler hoped it was a long and happy existence, far away from the tragedy that had dogged Hank's life, filled with all the laughter and smiles he'd been denied in recent years. A chance to start again. A chance to be free.

In a way, he envied them both.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this fic. I'm proud of how it came out, and having an artist to work with was awesome. Many thanks to Anifanatical for hosting the HankCon Reverse Big Bang event (and running it like a true professional!). Please check out the other fics in the Big Bang and support the artists and writers involved!


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